


Distant Worlds: Collision

by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf)



Series: Distant Worlds [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dissidia Duodecim: Final Fantasy, Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Epic Battles, M/M, STOP FLIRTING IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT YOU TWO, author doesn’t even know how to play a video game, chasing the world-building away with a broom, even the bad guys, everybody got a Badassery Upgrade, seriously I tried but I can't even find the buttons, this fic has decided to make every single FF/KH continuity canon in the same universe, those pesky bunnies just won’t quit, yay FF wikia for the win, yes I got all the action scenes out of my system in one go, you have never seen the phrase ‘epic battles’ used in a better context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:26:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Silmari%C3%ABn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Chaos defeated and the dimensions put to right again, Cloud didn’t ever expect to see Squall again.</p><p>But then the Heartless came.</p><p>[PG version available on FF.Net]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ze_Momonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ze_Momonster/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Well, when I asked my partner (who’s an avid Final Fantasy fan, and whose input was really helpful given that I know nothing about video games, yay) to check my battle sequences, his opinion was, “I’m so glad you don’t work for Square; I’d never have finished a single game otherwise.”
> 
> In the famous words of the ACC design team, “Screw everything, it just needs to look more epic.”
> 
>  
> 
> [A PG version can be found on FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11413484/1/Distant-Worlds-Collision)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MO I REWROTE THE ENTIRE THING BECAUSE I READ THE TUMBLR VERSION AGAIN AND DECIDED THAT I HATED IT.**
> 
> So. This is very late. Like three years too late. But, well, you did say that you still like Cleon, so here you are! I hope you’re recovering well from your surgery!

So much for omniscience.

Apparently, even Cosmos hadn’t expected every single one of her representatives to respond to her summons. Which, in turn, meant that the building she’d prepared to house all of them wasn’t _quite_ big enough to hold their actual turnout. Squall wouldn’t have minded pitching a tent somewhere, to be honest, and he’d have done so except for one small issue: Cosmos’ building was the only thing shielded from the corruption of Chaos’ minions, located as it was on a completely separate plane of existence only accessible via their teleport crystals. His desire for solitude didn’t _quite_ outweigh his desire to survive the night.

Though if his roommate was anything like Selphie, Squall would rather take his chances with the manikins.

~*~*~*~*~

There were two weapons racks next to the door, one of them already occupied by a two-handed sword taller than he was, with a series of strangely-shaped holes down the centre. Squall briefly wondered if they were decorative or served some unknown purpose, then decided that he didn’t really care.

Then Number Seven walked out of their shared room, and Squall had to do a double-take. Instead of the tall muscular bodybuilder he’d been expecting to see, the blond was even smaller than him. How in the name of _Gaia_ was he able to handle a sword of _that_ size?

Maybe he was overcompensating for something.

Number Seven nodded at him, casually lifted the sword single-handedly with no visible effort as though it weighed no more than a feather, and wandered out of the door presumably in search of some manikins.

Whatever.

~*~*~*~*~

He needn’t have worried. Number Seven was clearly ex-military, from the way he rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn and immediately dropped into a series of crunches right there on the floor, to the way he absently made his bed with regulation corners. He wasn’t an _intolerable_ roommate either; he returned only to eat and sleep, kept the room clean, and generally kept to himself.

It wasn’t so bad, Squall decided. He could have ended up with someone _much_ worse, like that kid down the corridor blasting music at 2 a.m.

~*~*~*~*~

After a week of _that_ , Number Seven stormed out of their shared room at 3 a.m., and now Squall could sleep undisturbed through the night. He could have kissed the blond for that.

~*~*~*~*~

They were getting close to Chaos’ stronghold, Squall could tell. The manikins came in bigger and bigger swarms, now, and some of them even had special abilities. But it was nothing they couldn’t handle.

When that eventuality happened, the two of them were sitting in a comfortable silence by the fireplace, each with his own whetstone and repair kit, each tending to his own precious weapon. Squall wasn’t sure when this silent camaraderie had occurred, only that it did, and that it was now a nightly ritual before bed.

It therefore caught Squall’s attention immediately when Number Seven glanced up sharply from his maintenance, fingers pausing in their disassembly of the fusion blade. His head was cocked towards the door and there was a look of concentration on his face, as though listening to something Squall couldn’t hear. Without warning, he jumped up from his chair, yanked the door open, and shot out still holding his half-assembled sword.

Squall stared at the abandoned blades scattered carelessly on the table for a moment longer, and then followed suit with his gunblade in hand.

His foot was on the first stair when he finally heard the screams for help coming from – he frowned and tilted his head to better focus – the front lawn, wasn’t it? The two of them weren’t the only ones to respond, either. All the representatives were charging out of either their respective rooms or the shared common room, wherever they had been, with whatever weapon they had at hand – including, apparently, one of those little cocktail umbrellas.

The woman on the front lawn, with short brown hair and a long blue-and-white gown – one of the two Number Tens, Squall’s brain supplied – didn’t even look up as they thundered towards her, and it only took a moment for Squall to see why. Her dress was soaked in blood, and she was busy shoving Potions down her partner’s throat as fast as she could uncork them with her shaking hands. Number Seven was already by her side, yanking Potions out from her bag, and ripping Number Ten’s shirt apart to reveal a truly nasty gaping wound in his abdomen. He folded up the ruined shirt, and immediately set both hands on it, applying pressure on the injury.

The flow of blood didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“We need curatives!”

Nobody else had any. A few of the representatives turned and ran for the house, presumably for their Potion supply, but it would take too long. They wouldn’t make it in time.

“Move aside!”

Squall shoved a couple of the slower representatives out of his way, reaching their side in a matter of seconds. Number Seven glanced up at his shout, and then leaned aside without a word to give him space. Squall let Lionheart dangle from one hand now that there was no immediate danger in sight, closed his eyes, and held his other hand in front of his face.

Cosmos had said that magic from their respective worlds wouldn’t work, partly due to interference from Chaos, and partly because they didn’t have access to the innate pool of magic on their home worlds.

A good thing, then, that Squall carried around his own magical source.

‘ _Lend me your strength, Griever._ ’

A deep roar reverberated through his mind as Squall drew his hand down his face slowly, but it was like trying to dredge the spell up through molasses. Faint static-like prickles danced down his arm, but they were far fewer than usual, and for a moment Squall was truly afraid that his Curaga might fail. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, yanking on the connection between himself and Griever, refusing to let the tenuous spark of magic die out.

Wind rushed through his ears as his Guardian Force unfolded itself from its usual residence within his pendant. Feeling slightly more settled, Squall opened his eyes, and yes, there were the green sparkles this time, scattering down onto Number Ten like a miniature shower of fireworks.

He forced himself to hold the spell for a moment longer, until Number Seven cautiously lifted up the makeshift pressure pad on Number Ten’s abdomen to confirm that the wound was no longer gushing blood like a broken pipe. Only then did Squall gratefully let his thread of connection to Griever break.

Almost immediately, he felt his legs give out underneath him, and he bit back a pained groan as his knee slammed into the grass, seeing but not registering the other representatives crowd around Number Ten with more powerful curative items. Movement in the periphery of his vision told him that Number Seven had stood up, and there was a slight pressure on his shoulder as the blond passed, as if someone had squeezed it for a brief moment.

It took him a few more moments to realise that someone was speaking, and only because she clasped his free hand – the one not clinging onto Lionheart – in both of hers.

“Thank you so much,” the female Number Ten gushed.

Squall shrugged uncomfortably, and was glad when she let him go after another tearstained expression of gratitude.

By some unspoken signal, the male Number Ten’s unconscious body was laid out on the couch in the shared common room, and the other representatives filed into the room.

“Yuna, what happened?”

“We were ambushed by a large group of manikins on our way back,” explained Number Ten, taking a seat on the couch next to her fallen partner and drying her eyes with a handkerchief. “They were the new ones, with enhanced strength and reflexes.” Several people around the room nodded at her words. So it wasn’t just Squall who’d encountered them then. “But they weren’t _that_ difficult to defeat, except one of them – when Tidus struck the killing blow, it exploded on him.” She held up a piece of shrapnel, slick with blood and about the size of a fist. Examining the woman more closely, Squall realised that her dress was littered with tiny cuts and that some of the blood on her clothes – which he had assumed was entirely her partner’s – was probably hers. “I was further away since I’m a ranged fighter, so I managed to avoid most of it, but he – he was right next to it.”

The representatives exchanged grim looks.

“I ran into one the other day that could breathe fire,” one of them suddenly piped up, and before long everyone was offering up their own experiences with the special manikins.

“I think we should move in groups from now onwards,” Number One proposed. Most didn’t look very happy about the prospect and there were a few grumbles, but everyone slowly gravitated into pairs or trios.

From across the room, Squall caught Number Seven’s eye. The brunet tilted his head a fraction in question, and after a moment’s of hesitation the blond nodded, just once.

~*~*~*~*~

Only when they retired to their room did Squall have the time to briefly wonder, how did Number Seven hear Number Ten when they were three stories up and facing the wrong side of the house?

He rolled over on his bed.

Whatever.

~*~*~*~*~

“Squall Leonhart.”

“Cloud Strife.” Number Seven’s grip was dry and sure, calloused from years of sword usage, and Squall finally had a name to go with the face.

~*~*~*~*~

Within a few days, Chaos too had upped the ante. The standard crystal-like manikins that shattered after a solid blow or two were nearly non-existent now, being replaced by manikins that stood up to basic attacks and spewed a variety of elements from the standard Fire-Thunder-Ice trio to the more exotic Gravity. From almost the moment they left the sanctuary of Cosmos’ domain, they were bombarded from all sides, and it soon turned into a quest to survive the day rather than a quest to seek out Chaos.

Two more met Tidus’ fate.

Pairs soon turned into quartets, and the average group size grew and grew as the representatives found themselves increasingly pressed to keep up with the never-ending stream of manikins.

All except Cloud and Squall, who left together early each morning and returned each evening, bruised but alive.

~*~*~*~*~

That might change today, mused Squall. He was standing back-to-back with Cloud, completely surrounded by manikins as far as the eye could see. There was no way out.

If he was going to die anyway, well.

“So, what’s with the size of your sword?”

For a moment, he thought Cloud wasn’t going to answer. “It reminds me of a friend.” And then, “Why do you need four belts?”

Squall blinked. “For field tourniquets and securing the occasional prisoner,” he answered truthfully, and then felt compelled to add, “but mostly for decoration.”

Then there was no more time for talking.

Squall darted forwards and ducked under the first manikin, bringing Lionheart up to block the blow from a second, and followed through with the slash to cut off the head of a third. He spun and wove through the crowd, kicking at one that got too close, and sprayed a hail of icy bullets into the masses that bought him several precious seconds to swallow a Hi-Potion.

He didn’t know what Cloud was doing behind him, but his instincts – honed by a year of surviving back attacks – never pinged at him. In return, the brunet repaid the favour, not letting a single manikin get past him.

Squall focused for a moment, his gunblade glowing with white energy. He absently kicked away the manikin that tried to take a swipe at him, and then jumped into the air. At the peak of his jump, he spun in a circle, releasing all his stored energy in a directed outwards blast.

In the distance, something exploded.

Cloud ducked automatically as the shockwave passed harmlessly over his head, ruffling blond spikes, and Squall could see him use the momentary respite to charge up his own attack.

He turned back to his own half of the manikins with renewed vigour. Slash. Stab. Shoot. Repeat.

His sense of danger _screamed_ , and Squall spun around just in time to see one of the manikins _vanish_ –

“Behind you!”

Cloud twisted smoothly around, but he was too late, the manikin was already upon him.

Lionheart barked out, twice.

The blond leapt back and they waited with bated breath, but it dissolved as per normal instead of exploding.

Squall was running towards him the moment the rest of the manikins died, all traces of exhaustion forgotten. Cloud was still standing, which was a good thing, but even from that distance the brunet could see four long gashes where the manikin had raked its nails down Cloud’s arm before Squall had managed to destroy it.

“Teleporter,” he gasped the moment he got within earshot. One hand reached into his inventory and withdrew an X-Potion, handing it to the other swordsman.

Cloud inclined his head in acceptance, but pushed away the proffered healing item.

Squall frowned at him, just a slight crease of his brow. He’d never seen anyone who turned down curatives, other than zombies. Cloud didn’t sport the greenish tinge that was the hallmark of a Zombie spell, but he probably had his own reasons.

The blond looked surprised when Squall didn’t insist, and perhaps that was what prompted him to elaborate, a trace of grief within his eyes. “I’m immune to curatives.”

Squall _stared_.

“I heal fast,” continued Cloud in a quiet voice, letting his injured arm drop to his side. The ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “But I wouldn’t say no to a tourniquet, if you like.”

Somehow, Squall found the energy to smirk. “If you wanted me to take off my pants, all you had to do was ask.”

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, all the scratches – including the bruises Squall was _sure_ he’d left in the middle of the night – were gone.

~*~*~*~*~

“Sephiroth,” snarled Cloud, and Squall was momentarily taken aback by the venom in his partner’s voice. Then he caught sight of Ultimecia, her eyes alight with insanity, and in that moment he _understood_. It might not have been their will to fight, but fight they would to protect everyone.

“Don’t die.”

“You too.”

They sprang apart.

~*~*~*~*~

Like a hundred nights before, Cloud was sitting pensively on his bed when Squall stumbled home from his Destiny Odyssey. For a moment, Squall just stared at him, at the way blond spikes ruffled lightly in the breeze coming through the open window, the way his hands were folded in his lap, the way blue eyes were dimmed in thought.

Then Cloud sighed, rising with a small shake of his head. As he walked closer, Squall realised there was a fleck of blood on his cheek, where the blond must have missed a spot while washing up.

“It’s over.”

Woodenly, he let Cloud ease Lionheart from unresisting fingers, and without another word deft slim fingers began dissembling the gunblade for maintenance, a hundred nights of watching the same mechanical ritual evidently having rubbed off on the blond.

_No, no it wouldn’t be over until Chaos was dead._

Squall turned around, slowly, for the first time realising that there was a trail of blood on the once-immaculate floor, ending in a puddle at his feet. He blinked incomprehensibly at the incongruous sight for a moment, wondering where it came from. It wasn’t like Cloud to leave bloodstains on the floor.

His eyelids fluttered shut, and then struggled opened again.

Hands landed on his shoulders, turning him around and gently but forcibly steering him away. The next time he opened his eyes, it was to the sterile white light of the bathroom. Those same hands smoothed their way down his chest, easing the bomber jacket off and then making short work of his shirt.

A blink.

The other swordsman loomed over his prone form, saying something, but all Squall could make out was the way he could count the iridescent flecks in those unnaturally bright eyes, the way blond spikes – softer than he’d expect – brushed against his forehead.

Cloud’s lips parted in surprise when Squall yanked him down and their mouths collided, one elbow banging painfully into the unforgiving bathroom tiles. But even the throbbing pain couldn’t distract him for long, not with Squall sucking leisurely on his bottom lip, eyes blazing molten silver.

Still, he hesitated.

Squall growled, the sound reverberating deep in his chest as he almost violently flipped them over, shifting their hips into alignment. Cloud groaned, both at the impact and the sudden stark awareness that the brunet on top of him was naked save for his boxers, and the thought of _that_ coming off too sent a fiery jolt of desire straight to his groin.

A fleeting smirk passed over Squall’s handsome features as Cloud’s burgeoning erection nudged insistently against his thigh, and Cloud wanted to _lick_ the smug look off his face. He surged upwards into a sitting position, abdominal muscles contracting in a blatant misappropriation of all the crunches he’d been doing in his spare time – he couldn’t help it, the action was ingrained into his muscle memory – and caught the startled brunet by the back of his neck, intent upon snogging the other bladesman senseless.

It was Squall who finally broke the kiss, lips swollen and glistening wet. “Fuck me,” he gasped, the first time either of them had spoken aloud since their terse exchanges that afternoon. _Make me forget_ , those gunmetal eyes begged.

He understood that feeling all too well.

Cloud gave a short nod, and Squall evidently took that as implicit permission to tug at the waistband of his sleep pants, running an exploratory hand across the visible bulge before yanking both pants and underwear off in a single move. The blond had a split-second to react to the re-emergence of the evil smirk, before Squall bent over and hot wet heat engulfed his erection.

It was almost embarrassing how fast his cock went to full hardness under Squall’s tongue, and Cloud couldn’t stop the small gasp from escaping his mouth. He could _see_ the smugness dancing in those rimmed-silver eyes, almost completely blown black, and in retaliation he tugged on short brown strands harder than he normally did, though by the way Squall merely hummed in response the gunblader didn’t mind too much.

Pulling his mouth off with a soft ‘pop’, Squall sat back, licked his lips deliberately, and reached for the bottle of lube wedged behind the other bathroom supplies. Blinking slowly, it took the blond several breaths to respond, but the bottle smacking against his chest told him in no uncertain terms it was time he got with the programme. Two slick fingers slid inside Squall in one go, the burning stretch barely soothed by Cloud’s mouth on his collarbone, sucking a bruise into the hollow of his throat.

The bathroom tiles were freezing under Squall’s body and he hissed, pushing himself up to his hands and knees, Cloud’s chest a searing line of heat against his back as the blond pressed into him. The gunblader snarled wordlessly when the other swordsman paused minutely, as though giving him time to adjust.

Taking the hint, Cloud didn’t hesitate on the next thrust, hips snapping forward in a move that made the brunet see stars for a brief moment. Without giving him any time to recover, Cloud pulled out almost all the way and then slammed back in, setting a brutal pace that left Squall unable to do anything but tremble to hold himself up.

His forehead thunked against the cool tiles when Cloud adjusted his position, tilting the gunblader’s hips up backwards to grind aggressively against his prostate in smooth rolling motions. Squall groaned through clenched teeth, bracing a forearm against the floor, working his other arm free. His aching erection _burned_ in his hand when he finally got a hand around it, and he timed his own strokes to the speed of Cloud’s thrusts, his hips rocking involuntarily into the added friction.

His orgasm hit him like a runaway train, and it was all Squall could do to cling on, nails scraping against the bathroom tiles. The arm clamped around his chest squeezed tighter as Cloud fought to control himself, his own cock spasming inside Squall, heated pants washing over his back with a hiss of what could have been Squall’s name.

The grip around his torso loosened, letting him collapse the last few inches to the floor, the coolness a welcome relief for his overheated skin.

“We should… shower.”

Squall grunted in response, letting Cloud pull him to his feet and wincing slightly at the fierce ache making itself known in his nether regions. It took him several moments before he could steel himself to move, a hand braced against the wall. The blond was already scrubbing himself perfunctorily under the spray when Squall finally managed to join him, and although he didn’t say anything his gaze was vaguely apologetic as he tossed Squall the soap.

There was an X-Potion sitting on his bedside table when Squall limped stiffly out of the shower. He picked it up idly, slanting a look at his partner. Cloud was already in bed, facing the wall, and by all appearances asleep.

“Thanks.”

They left for Chaos the next day.

~*~*~*~*~

Squall suddenly stopped running. Beside him, Cloud skidded to a halt. Through the mouth of the cave, they could see a vast expanse of molten, dripping magma and a platform of tainted obsidian, at the end of which rose a roughly-hewn throne occupied by what could be none other than Chaos himself. Glancing at each other, they exchanged a nod and stepped forth together.

They were going to shape the future.

As they entered, Chaos glared, his wings flaring to either side of him, and leapt from the throne. His gigantic bulk crashed onto the platform, sending seismic ripples across the cavern. As the duo regained their balance, all senses on alert, Chaos clawed the air and snarled wordlessly.

The battle was on.

Almost immediately, four huge pillars of earth shot up from the ground. Cloud leapt to the left, while Squall went right, ending up at opposing ends of the arena. No sense giving Chaos an easy target. The fireballs that instantly followed them were swiftly deflected, Chaos using the return fire to charge up a huge pillar of flame around him.

Before they could get their bearings, they felt a huge suction force dragging them forward. Cloud dodged sideways, sighing in relief as the force dissipated. A flash of energy, however, caused him to turn his head. A field of energy surrounded Lionheart, extending its range, as Squall slammed it into the ground. “Blasting Zone,” he growled, successfully negating the suction effects of what Chaos announced as Condemn.

Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Chaos inhaled deeply, seemingly charging something. A fiery orb appeared before him, wreathed in flames and growing bigger by the second. Cloud charged forward, stabbing Chaos in the stomach before he could finish charging Soul of Oblivion, and leapt into the air to finish the upwards slash for Climhazzard.

He was unprepared for Chaos to suddenly begin spinning, unleashing waves of energy and flinging him into the wall before he could raise his sword to block. Thrown into the wall, his head met the wall with a loud ‘crack’ as his sword clattered to the ground. Stunned, Cloud could do nothing but blink slowly, feeling the Mako in his veins get to work on the bump on his head.

Squall could only spare him a single glance as the gunblader dashed forward, firing an ice bullet followed by several streams of lightning. The demon retaliated by charging towards him, slashing at Squall and whipping his tail around. Chaos staggered as Squall successfully blocked the tail whip and the brunet took the chance to slash him at close range four times in quick succession, then stabbing upwards and triggering the gunblade three times to send him flying. Chaos recovered just in time in mid-air to be able to land in a backflip, sending a plume of fire along the ground. Busy dodging, Squall pursed his lips angrily as his follow-up magic projectiles went off target.

Noticing Cloud was beginning to get up, Chaos snarled, “Divine Punishment!” and Cloud froze as walls of fire appeared around him. His eyes widened as Chaos appeared above him, a flaming sword in his claws. “I can see the weakness in your heart,” he intoned, staring directly at the blond.

In the fleeting second Chaos took his eyes off Squall, the brunet fired a flurry of ice shards, which turned into lightning strikes as they neared Chaos’ bulk, stunning him and flinging him downwards. The walls of fire vanished not a second too soon, allowing Cloud to roll out of the way as Chaos came crashing down, executing a three-hit combo that sent Chaos skidding across the arena. Normally Sonic Break was too slow to be effective in battle; however, with backup against a stunned opponent, the amount of power in each strike was deadly.

Before Chaos even landed, Squall was already there, Lionheart poised in an upward swing to send him flying into the air. He then jumped and struck three more times from above, slamming Chaos back into the ground where Cloud was already waiting, First Tsurugi raised. With a mighty swing, a beam of pure energy blasted from the blade along the ground, engulfing Chaos in a massive explosion.

When the smoke cleared, Chaos’ gigantic bulk lay prone on the ground.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the two swordsmen were just about to sheathe their blades when their eyes widened in horror. The corpse had vanished, and another Chaos appeared on the throne.

“Manikin!” yelled Squall, the first to realise what was going on.

Cloud cursed, swinging First Tsurugi down again to prepare for another battle, but they were too late.

Caught off-guard, the duo barely dodged as Chaos cried, “Vanish!” and dove from the throne, slamming one clawed foot into the ground to create a fissure on impact. In the next moment he had disappeared, and both automatically looked up as the first manikin of Chaos had only teleported above them.

It nearly proved to be their undoing, as portals instead appeared on the ground and Chaos leapt up from the one closest to Cloud. Squall leapt into the air, intending to charge a counterattack, but Chaos’ next teleport took the demon in a spinning lunge directly next to Squall.

Cloud winced slightly in sympathy as the brunet was caught in a point-blank wave of energy much like the one that had knocked him into a wall earlier. Sending a shower of meteors into the air, Cloud watched in satisfaction as one of them slammed into Chaos on its way up, stunning him and rendering him a hapless target for the Meteorain. Before the debris had cleared Cloud was already on him, swooping down and slashing once to knock Chaos up and away.

Chaos kicked off from the wall for added momentum, dashing forward and slashing rapidly, pressing Cloud into defence. On guard, Cloud blocked his claws with the massive First Tsurugi, causing Chaos to stagger.

Seizing his chance, Squall appeared above the demon to deliver a blow, but Chaos disappeared and instead Lionheart met First Tsurugi in a clang of metal. Leaping apart, the duo spotted the portals on the ground this time, and both took to the air to better prepare for his arrival. Chaos appeared swiftly, always diving back underground before any magical attack they sent in his direction could hit, and the next time he appeared _beside_ them.

Hearing the faintest displacement of air, Squall whirled around, his lithe body increasing his speed, and barely blocked the sharp claws heading his way with a howling screech of metal. Upon contact Chaos vanished again, only to appear erratically around the arena, slashing rapidly at the duo whenever he appeared.

Cloud had enough. The next time Chaos materialised beside him, the demon was greeted with a teleporting _Cloud_ , who slashed at him rapidly five times in succession, then leapt above him and dove down for a final strike that knocked him heavily to the ground.

Even as Chaos fell, he spat a slew of fireballs towards them, and learning from round one both chose to dodge instead of deflect. Those precious seconds Chaos gained allowed him to call upon his summon, a dragon of some sort, whose eyes pierced eerily through Cloud and Squall before dissipating.

Immediately, the two of them crashed to the ground, weakened substantially. Even as they struggled up, Chaos was already upon them, slashing rapidly then using waves of energy to prevent the duo from engaging in close combat. When Cloud staggered, Chaos took the chance to backflip in place, sending consecutive plumes of fire along the ground yet again.

Squall dodged towards Chaos, flipping over the plume of fire in an amazing display of aerial acrobatics, and before his feet had touched the ground he was charging at Chaos at high speeds, Lionheart glowing blue behind him. He then ran circles around Chaos, striking him with three slashes to knock him around, then floated above him and stabbed him repeatedly.

Meanwhile, Cloud had also dashed forward. The moment Squall jumped out of the way, he swung his sword thrice in rapid succession, sending Chaos flying on the last hit. By the time the last kanji symbol from the Cross-Slash dissipated, Chaos was lying still on the ground. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Cloud leant on First Tsurugi – good thing the sword was as tall as he was – and turned to congratulate Squall on a job well done.

The words died in his throat as he took in the dawning horror on Squall’s face, and Cloud snapped his neck around just in time to see Chaos’ corpse disappearing – _again_ – and a new one arise atop the throne like a demented dark phoenix.

The first thing he noticed was that this Chaos was bigger. Much, much bigger. His colours were also mutedly different from before. Squall gave an audible and readied Lionheart again.

Instead of attacking them outright this time, the duo watched, perplexed, as Chaos leapt into the magma around the arena. Cloud muttered a sharp, vindictive curse as Chaos grew to impossible proportions, uttering the words, “Shiver at the power of a God.”

This was the real thing, then.

Taking hold of a massive sword formed from the wildly bubbling magma, Chaos swung it down onto the arena, creating an earthquake. As Cloud and Squall fought to keep their footing, Chaos swung his sword across the arena this time, leaving explosions in its wake.

Coughing and spluttering, Squall brought up a hand to shield his watering eyes from the smoke. Cloud’s Mako-enhanced eyes worked much better, and he snagged Squall by the arm, barely dragging the brunet out of the way of a wall of fire in time. Cursing again as the smoke cleared somewhat, enough to see Chaos stabbing the sword into the ground and a plume of fire racing across the arena towards them, Cloud pulled Squall into his arms and _jumped_.

From his vantage point, Cloud was able to discern that Chaos had summoned three more swords, flinging all four into the sides of the arena. Fields of energy appeared on the ground and exploded almost immediately afterwards, sending more shrapnel flying that Squall weakly raised his gunblade to block.

The next few moments passed by in a series of blurs as Cloud used his Mako enhancements to their advantage, crossing the arena in impossible leaps to avoid the fields of energy. He was beginning to wonder why Chaos was just standing in the magma when he disappeared… and reappeared in the centre of the arena in a wave of magma that streamed along the ground.

Hastily dropping Squall – who was, thankfully, now able to hold his own – Cloud guarded against the large fireballs thrown their way. After a pause, a giant fireball met their eyes, and both intelligently chose to dive to either side of it. This was followed by a stream of much smaller fireballs, similar to those they had encountered in previous rounds. As such, Cloud lifted First Tsurugi to deflect them back – until the impact caused him to stagger backwards.

Seizing his chance, Chaos summoned walls of fire around them again, immobilising them temporarily. As the demon teleported above them, a flaming sword in his hands, Cloud recovered enough to jump out of the way of the flaming sword, but Chaos was already charging forward, slashing and whipping.

Trapped within the walls of fire, Squall could do nothing but listen to the sounds of claws meeting steel, his grip tightening on Lionheart. The moment the fire seemed to die out he jumped into the air, ready to come to Cloud’s aid, so the sight of Cloud alone with no Chaos in sight took him aback.

The momentary surprise cost him, as Chaos emerged beside him and delivered a blow that sent Squall flying, rolling across the arena. His gunblade fell to the ground as his momentum forced him over the edge, hands barely scrabbling for purchase and halting his motion at the last moment, dangling over the arena platform.

As he strained to pull himself back up, Chaos snarled. “No lion can crawl out of the abyss,” the demon declared as he sent three consecutive plumes of fire his way.

Trusting Squall to take care of himself, Cloud rushed in for the kill, delivering three solid blows to Chaos’ bulk followed by a jump into the air, spinning around the airborne demon to strike multiple times, knocking him back to the ground.

Chaos landed feet first, creating a fissure on the ground, and instantly disappeared underground again. Having seen this teleportation technique several times, Cloud was ready as the demon emerged from a portal behind him, whirling around and dashing towards Chaos to stab him, then jumping up and slam Chaos down again.

With Chaos stunned, Cloud swung his sword in mid-air, circling the demon to hit multiple times, then appearing underneath Chaos to send him flying across the entire arena towards where he last saw Squall. Right on cue, the brunet appeared above Chaos, spinning towards him to strike him and slammed Chaos downwards, pulling the gunblade’s trigger simultaneously.

Chaos tried to summon more fire, but neither swordsman would give him the chance. Unleashing a torrent of bullets, Lionheart flashed blue as Squall slashed Chaos eight times from the back, finally dashing past the demon with supersonic speed as he struck, creating an explosion.

At the same time Cloud performed a three-hit aerial combo on the airborne Chaos, knocking him upwards. He then slashed the demon five times, leapt above him and dove down for a final strike that sent Chaos flying directly into a horizontal ring of orbs where Squall was waiting.

Chaos did not get back up.

They waited with bated breath, but the carcass did not vanish this time.

“Looks like the real thing this time,” Cloud murmured, finally letting his exhaustion show when it became apparent that Chaos was really, truly and irrevocably dead.

Squall snorted quietly, head drooping.

~*~*~*~*~

A week later, they were finally going home.

A single white feather floated from the sky, landing in Squall’s outstretched palm. For some reason, this made the brunet smile. “Maybe one day, we can all go on another journey together.” The gunblader glanced around, his eyes coming to rest on Cloud.

Cloud smiled at Squall, causing the other swordsman to smile tentatively back. “Not interested,” the blond drawled, raising a hand in farewell as he strode into the flower field, his own teleport crystal in hand.

He missed the twitch of Squall’s lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Something was wrong.

Molten lava rushed through his veins, setting his nerves on fire. He was burning, worse than the first time Hojo forced pure Mako into his veins, worse than having Masamune stabbed through his lung…

“Cloud! Cloud!”

Voices… so far away…

They called forth images, flashing through his mind, faster than he could grasp. A man with spiky black hair and violet eyes. A brunette kneeling in a bed of flowers, her pink dress fanning over the soil.

Then the images changed. The man was running after him, violet eyes wild with worry. The woman stood motionless, her hands clasped as though in prayer, her warm brown eyes reflecting the same anxiety.

A deep, shuddering growl. All-knowing. All-encompassing. His head was splitting open just from listening to it.

The woman gasped. Hazel eyes widened.

“Think of your mission! You were fighting for Cosmos, weren’t you?”

_His mission…_

“Think of your fellow fighters! Any one of them!”

_His fellow fighters…_

The black-haired man was getting closer now, hand outstretched, as though trying to catch him.

Catch him?

Was he falling?

Was this what dying felt like?

A new image.

Another man, with short brown hair and a diagonal scar slashing from his forehead to the side of his nose, wearing a distinctive black leather bomber jacket with fur trim on the collar.

Their hands touched.

The images stilled, long enough for a name to slip to the surface.

“Zack?”

The world dissolved in a haze of white.

~*~*~*~*~

He was dropped unceremoniously from a height and took it headfirst, limbs too weak to even try to break his fall.

He could feel the soft blades brushing his face, smell the fresh dewy scent.

_Am I… dead?_

Darkness fell again.

~*~*~*~*~

Sterile whiteness.

When had he opened his eyes?

A face loomed over his, eyes crinkled in a smile. “Ah, you’re awake.”

Cloud blinked mutely, taking in the long white lab coat she wore, and couldn’t suppress a shudder.

The woman frowned, tugging the blanket up his chest. “The scans didn’t report any hearing issues…” she mumbled to herself, but Mako-enhanced hearing easily caught the words. “Hello, can you hear me?” she enunciated clearly, as though speaking to a patient hard of hearing. “Do you know where you are?”

What should he do? Play deaf? Answer her questions?

The woman scratched her head when Cloud didn’t answer her. “Well, you’re in luck – the Commander just got back last week, so Balamb Garden is accepting new SeeD recruits again, if that’s why you’re here. If not, don’t worry, he’ll figure something out for you.”

None of her words made any sense, but it seemed like he ended up in a military institution of some sort, like the SOLDIER department of the now-defunct Shinra Corporation. Given his luck with authority figures, this Commander person would either be something like the old President Shinra, or Sephiroth. Cloud surreptitiously cast an eye around for First Tsurugi, but it was nowhere to be seen.

He was just contemplating the fastest way to subdue the woman without her raising the alarm when the door slid open and a _very_ familiar brown head poked in. “You called, Dr Kadowaki?”

Startled Mako-blue eyes locked with gunmetal-grey. “Leonhart?” Cloud gasped, jerking up and almost immediately going into a coughing fit. The brunet was at his bedside in an instant, propping him up with pillows and pressing a cup of water into his hands.

Cloud sipped the water slowly, only then aware of the burning in his parched throat, and paid half an ear to Squall interrogating Dr Kadowaki to the side. Apparently, one of the SeeDs – their equivalent of SOLDIER, he supposed – had found him lying outside in the afternoon of the previous day, and had brought him to the medical wing. She had no idea what was wrong with him, but he wouldn’t wake up no matter what she did.

He could feel his strength returning while they spoke, and when he set down the empty glass of water Squall turned his full attention to him. “Tell me something only Strife would say.”

Cloud smirked. “Not interested.”

Squall’s lips twitched upwards for the fraction of a second before he grew serious again. “What happened?”

“I… don’t remember,” Cloud said slowly, and really, that should have sent alarm bells ringing inside his head much earlier. His hands clutched the blanket tucked around him, his eyes screwed shut.

Pain. Anguish.

Like the dark oily taint of Jenova, only worse – if that was even possible – oozing through the Lifestream, polluting the once-clear threads of emerald. Like seeing flashes of Sephiroth during Geostigma, but worse. Formless green skulls staring accusingly at him, their echoing screams reverberating inside his skull, a thousand finger bones stabbing into his heart as though trying to gouge it out of his chest while he was still alive.

“Strife? Strife? _Cloud_!”

“My world was dead,” Cloud said slowly, and knew it to be true, though he could not say how.

“Perhaps you hit your head too hard?”

Squall growled at the doctor, putting a hand on Cloud’s shoulder reassuringly. “Do you know what killed it?”

_Streets covered in a flood of black figures, oozing like tar, swallowing all in their path._

Voices. Calling his name.

Zack and Aerith. They were _in_ the Lifestream the entire time. If just being _near_ the Lifestream felt like that, how much worse must it have been for the two of them?

Cloud abruptly lurched to the side, grabbing the metal wastepaper basket and emptying the contents of his stomach into it. A hand rubbed soothing circles on his back and he was grateful for the contact, even more so as it dipped lower, pressing subtly into the knot in his lower back that never failed to make him relax. Trust Squall to know where to touch after the month they’d spent together.

“Maybe we should do another scan just to be sure?” a female voice suggested in a worried tone.

The hand didn’t cease in its motions. “No need.”

“He said he heard the Planet…” the doctor trailed off hesitantly.

“I believe him,” Squall answered calmly. “Cloud, can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” croaked Cloud.

Without prompting, Squall handed him another cup of water. “Do you know what killed it?” he repeated patiently.

He owed it to the brunet to explain. Cloud opened his mouth, but no words came out. How could he explain what he’d heard? How could he ever describe being bombarded by the dying memories of a billion inhabitants, of a world fluttering weakly in its death throes like a butterfly caught in a web?

_A little girl, running for her life, tripping over a dead body. Her scream of terror was abruptly cut off._

“Some kind of new monster,” he said haltingly. “They came out of nowhere.”

_An old man, torn into pieces by something moving too fast for him to see._

“There were too many of them. We were overwhelmed.”

He lowered his eyes to the hospital bed, not wanting to see the sympathy – or worse, pity – in Squall’s eyes.

“By the time I’d arrived, everyone was already dead.”

~*~*~*~*~

The silence was broken by the intercom.

“Emergency. Paging Commander Leonhart to the Training Centre.”

Squall’s head jerked up, and the motion drew Cloud’s eye before he could remember that he was trying not to look at the brunet. The gunblader’s face was drained of colour, and he muttered a soft curse. As the message repeated, the hand on his back shifted up to his shoulder, and squeezed gently. “Come with me?”

Cloud tested his muscles experimentally. Nothing hurt. “Where’s my sword?”

Squall turned the full blast of his glacial glare on Dr Kadowaki.

“He’s still injured,” she protested gamely.

“He’s long healed; Curaga runs through his bloodstream,” retorted the brunet. Kadowaki gasped. “His sword?” he prompted impatiently, gunblade already out and tapping absently against his thigh.

“In – in my office,” she stuttered slightly.

Cloud tore his eyes away from the muscles flexing suggestively under the leather and was off the bed and through the door in an instant, hearing Squall tersely thank the doctor behind him. Hand closing around the handle of First Tsurugi, Cloud felt vaguely settled for the first time since leaving Cosmos’ domain. This was just another battle, one that they would face together.

“Follow me,” barked the gunblader, taking off at a sprint out of the infirmary.

Cloud easily kept pace with Mako-enhanced speed, a step behind Squall, covertly admiring the way the long running strides highlighted the way the leather moved fluidly over the other swordsman’s body. “Situation?”

“Probably T-Rexaurs; it’s their mating season.”

Cloud had no idea what T-Rexaurs were, but if it was their mating season, that was bad. Even the most harmless of monsters could be unrecognisably ferocious during mating season. From Squall’s expression, this T-Rexaur sounded dangerous even under normal circumstances.

“And stop staring at my ass,” mumbled Squall, knowing Cloud would catch the quiet words.

Well, damn.

“It’s a nice ass,” Cloud complained equally quietly. He increased his pace, glancing sideways at the brunet now running alongside him, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. His eyes travelled down to the teeth worrying the bottom lip, just begging for Cloud to suck it into his mouth…

Squall’s eyes darted briefly to his and Cloud’s eyebrows raised when he realised there was a hint of pink dusted across the brunet’s cheeks. “Later,” he murmured, and banked sharply left into one of the corridors. Cloud blinked, bemusedly skidding after him. He shook his head mentally. Squall was right. There was time for distractions later.

They burst into the training centre just in time to hear a roar rend the air. Squall leapt over the bushes, heading in that direction, Cloud trailing after him, careful not to anger any other monsters in the area – if there were still any foolish ones left, that was.

As they neared the origins of the roar, a rhythmic thudding sound became audible. Cloud frowned. Having spent so long with Tifa, he naturally recognised the sound of combat gloves against thick hide. Who was idiotic enough to try to fight a monster in heat with their _fists_?

“Zell,” Squall sighed, as though hearing Cloud’s question, and leapt again, bringing his gunblade down in a defensive diagonal slash as he landed on one leg, Lionheart raised and ready to spring.

“Squall,” gasped a dark blond man wearing baggy blue cargo pants and a loose red shirt. “Thank Shiva.”

“Summon her yourself,” Squall replied without missing a beat, slowly rising from his kneeling crouch, eyes trained on the T-Rexaur before them. The monster had reared back, beady eyes narrowed and obviously weighing the new threat.

Satisfied it was not going to attack in the meantime, Cloud surveyed the situation. It was only then he realised there was a girl sprawled on the ground behind this Zell, brown hair spilling out of her long pigtails, legs bent at an awkward angle. Even at that distance he could make out the dark crimson stain seeping slowly through her uniform.

Zell spared a glance backwards at her. “Got curatives?” he asked shortly.

Squall blinked, attention diverted from the T-Rexaur to the girl half-hidden in Zell’s shadow. A flash of surprise crossed his face as he answered in the affirmative. With a quick glance at Cloud, who gave him a short nod, he slowly lowered the gunblade and closed his eyes. Passing a hand over his brow, a blue glow surrounded him briefly.

As though shaken awake by the spell, the T-Rexaur snarled, turning around and whipping its tail at Squall’s unprotected back. In the middle of the spell, Squall could do nothing but watch the sparks dancing up the girl’s body. The girl gave a shudder and lay still. He hoped that the Curaga was enough to see her through until she reaches Dr Kadowaki. An unblocked swipe would likely throw him into a tree and stun him for quite a while. He mentally braced himself for the pain –

That never came. A dull thud sound followed a crash and a roar of pain came from the T-Rexaur. Beside him, Zell gasped. Releasing the spell, Squall glanced over his shoulder.

Cloud stood in a protective stance in front of Squall, where the tail had been not a moment ago. Strong jaws strained forward, saliva dripping onto the ground, trying to break past First Tsurugi blocking the way.

Squall looked back to see Zell crouched beside the girl he vaguely remembered worked in the library, checking her vitals. Looking up, the other man gave a slight nod, carefully picking her up and cradling her body in his arms. Both of them looked up just in time to see the tail sweeping back at them. Raising Lionheart just in time, Squall managed to block the brunt of the attack with his gunblade, but Zell had no such luxury. His arms still jarring from the impact, Squall made to help the other, who was essentially defenceless.

The T-Rexaur had clearly spotted that weakness – or maybe it was just afraid of the shiny things – for it targeted Zell with a single-minded intensity usually reserved for its mate. Zell was making a valiant effort to leap out of the way of every strike, but his movements were getting sluggish rapidly. Cloud was following the T-Rexaur, hacking away at it, but First Tsurugi made little impact against the thick hide.

Squall cursed inwardly. Of all the days not to have Sleep junctioned to Lionheart… Taking up a battle stance, he held Lionheart straight in his right hand, left hand braced over the back of the blade. Feeling energy rush through his limbs and into the gunblade, yellow light exploded around him.

Squall opened his eyes, the yellow light flaring out on each side of him. Zell fell back, well familiar with the technique. Squall rushed past him and leapt, Lionheart already poised for the first diagonal strike, sending out streaks of blue lightning. Bringing the gunblade back upwards, each strike connected solidly with the T-Rexaur, sending it reeling backwards.

Griever growled in the back of his mind as he landed on the ground, lending his own strength. Slinging Lionheart over one shoulder, crimson and aquamarine streaks of energy rushed into his body from the surroundings and burnt orange flares rose from the ground, spiralling into a tornado of white light above his head. Abruptly, all light coalesced into a bright point on the tip of the blue gunblade, turning it green briefly, and vanished. Squall swept Lionheart backwards, feeling the condensed energy rushing through the gunblade, and leapt again.

Wide blue arcs of light followed his every stroke as Squall spun in mid-air, delivering devastating attacks to the T-Rexaur. With one last sweep, he shot forwards past Mach speeds, Lionheart slicing through the T-Rexaur like diamond through glass, leaving behind a lightning-wreathed explosion in his wake.

Landing on the ground a second time, Squall cursed inwardly. Odin help him, if only he had time to change his junctions! Thundaga was useful, but had nothing on Blizzaga when it came to T-Rexaurs. Speaking of the beast, Squall had to grudgingly admire its tenacity – even after a full eight-hit Renzokuken followed by Lion Heart it was still alive. Barely, but still alive.

Cloud had wisely shifted positions out of the way when the Renzokuken sequence started, placing himself between the berserk T-Rexaur and Zell, giving the latter a chance to escape. Squall’s eyes shifted to the entrance. Zell was nearly through the door to freedom, just a while more…

Another enraged roar ripped Squall’s attention back to the half-dead T-Rexaur. Exchanging a fleeting glance with Cloud, both warriors tensed in preparation. With no innocent by-standers, they wouldn’t need to hold back.

A sudden shift of energy around them alerted Squall to another’s presence. Had Zell come back? No, impossible. There was no way he could have gotten the girl to the infirmary that quickly, and even if he had, he would have stayed with her.

A whisper over the wind.

The earth _shifted_ , and ice exploded out of the ground, growing into a stalagmite in a matter of seconds, completely encasing the T-Rexaur.

Squall sighed in relief. Rinoa. Thank Leviathan.

All too soon, the ice cracked, and Cloud tensed. He need not have worried, for with a last deafening roar, the T-Rexaur toppled over and faded away into the Lifestream.

Only then did Cloud relax from his battle stance and turn to regard the mysterious arrival who single-handedly blasted the T-Rexaur into oblivion. Or froze it to death, to be literal. He blinked in surprise. It turned out to be a girl who bore such a strong resemblance to Tifa that they could have been sisters in another life.

The corner of her mouth tilted up in a smile and she winked, wagging an index finger in front of her face. “Getting beaten up by T-Rexaurs now, oh great Commander?”

Great, even her attitude reminded him of Tifa. Cloud looked at Squall, expecting the brunet to brush her off in his usual manner, only to see the normally stoic brunet’s head tilted to one side, a soft smile on his lips. “Then I suppose I should thank my saviour, oh great Sorceress?”

The woman laughed, her eyes alight with mirth. She really was very pretty, Cloud noted distantly, not to mention a very capable mage. The perfect paramour for the commander of an elite band of warriors.

“Aren’t you supposed to be _my_ knight in shining armour?” she teased, stepping closer.

“That implies you actually need protecting, my lady.” Squall was teasing back. Odin be damned, he was actually _teasing_ back. A cold knot settled in the pit of Cloud’s stomach.

She smiled sweetly and opened her arms. Without any hesitation – he rarely even touched _Cloud_ outside the bedroom – Squall drew her into his arms, wrapping one arm around her waist and letting her head rest against his chest.

“It’s good to see you too, Rinoa. I’m surprised Father let you leave so easily, I thought it would take you another week at least to arrive.”

Rinoa laughed, a silvery cascade of bells. “Like he could stop me the moment I heard my brother’s home?”

Wait, what?

Cloud flushed as Rinoa laughed again, looking knowingly at him. Without the icy jealousy tinting his vision, he finally noticed what he should have all along – the similar cut of the face, the shape of their eyes, the familial way they held each other. He was willing to bet if Squall decided to grow out his hair, it would fall in waves past his shoulders just like hers.

“Rinoa, meet Cloud Strife, my partner for the past year. Strife, this is Rinoa Heartilly, my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Cloud.” When had she moved in front of him?

He took her proffered hand on autopilot, brushing his lips over the back of her hand lightly. “Likewise, my lady.”

She held a hand to her mouth, chuckling. “Oh, I like him already! Squall, come and give your poor jealous boyfriend a hug too.”

Behind her, Cloud could see Squall mouth the word, _boyfriend_ , in confusion, and he shrugged helplessly in reply. If there was one thing he learnt after living with Tifa for three years, it was to never argue with a woman when she used _that_ tone of voice.

Squall shrugged in defeat, walking forwards stiffly and putting an arm awkwardly around Cloud. Then he suddenly stumbled forwards as though someone – Cloud had a very good idea who – had just shoved him from behind, and his mouth connected with Cloud’s. Squall opened his mouth on a gasp that was swallowed by the blond, and before he knew it he was pinned against a tree, Cloud’s tongue halfway down his throat. The gunblader tried to struggle, but Cloud shifted his hips – _oh Eden_ – and he decided that watching yaoi fangirl be damned, he was definitely not going to stop now. Sliding his hands into blond spikes and _tugging_ , he relaxed into the kiss.

Until a _very_ familiar roar broke through their make-out session.

Squall blurted a very startled curse and shoved Cloud off, hand going for his gunblade. “Back attack,” he growled. “Smart.”

“What in Ifrit’s name…” Cloud muttered, barely managing to catch his balance in time. He whipped First Tsurugi down from his back, trying to will down the slight physical effect that the kiss had on him.

“Mating season,” snarled Squall, equally frustrated at being interrupted. “Of course, it must have wondered what happened to its mate.”

A faint whirring sound caught Cloud’s attention and he turned to see the weapon clipped to Rinoa’s left forearm spinning rapidly, sharp edges slicing fast enough through the air to be audible. Her right arm was bent, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “Hurry,” she called, eyes trained on the T-Rexaur. Without warning, the blaster edge exploded into action, but it bounced off the scales on the T-Rexaur’s head. Looking unruffled by this turn of events, Rinoa turned slightly to keep the T-Rexaur in her peripheral vision. Cloud wondered what she was doing – until he saw the T-Rexaur droop forwards, little ‘zzz’s coming out of the top of its head.

Squall needed no further prompting. Whipping his gunblade upright, he performed what had to be the fastest junction he had ever done in his life, swapping Thundaga with Blizzaga and slotting ice bullets into the barrel of his gun.

Rinoa’s eyes flickered briefly to Cloud. “Your junctions?” she inquired.

“What are junctions?” Cloud asked cluelessly.

Rinoa’s eyebrows shot up. “Well then, T-Rexaurs are weak to ice and susceptible to Stop and Sleep.”

Cloud nodded thoughtfully, hand shifting over his Chocobracelet until he touched the green Master Magic materia. “And normal hits?” he asked.

“Require extra strength to pierce through the thick hide,” Rinoa explained, eyes darting back and forth, sweeping the foliage for more monsters – if there were even any left in the vicinity. “You’re not from this world, are you?” she asked shrewdly.

Cloud never got a chance to answer, for a thunderous crash alerted them to the fact that the T-Rexaur was shaking off the remnants of its nap, bellowing its fury for all to hear. He whirled around.

Giving the raging monster another glance, Cloud pursed his lips and decided to go with the full assembled First Tsurugi to maximise his brute force damage. The separated swords would probably not have much impact against hide that thick. Sliding the Master Magic material out of its slot, he held it over First Tsurugi. “Freeze,” he murmured, activating the level 1 Contain spell.

Frost flakes crystallised immediately across his blade, coating it liberally in a sheath of ice.

“Interesting,” muttered Rinoa, eyeing the blade in fascination.

Squall charged forwards, leaping into the air to slash down at the vulnerable eyes, then performed a backflip in mid-air and emptied his ice bullets into the gash the blade made. Enraged, the T-Rexaur opened its jaws to snatch him out of the air, only to be stopped by a volley of ice projectiles from Rinoa, temporarily freezing it in place.

Cloud held First Tsurugi out in front of him, as orange light enveloped him. He raised his sword up, then settled it in a guard position, his right hand on the hilt and his left braced against the blade. Preparations done, he lowered his sword into a charging position, before dashing forwards at his full Mako-enhanced speed. His aim was true, as the sword stabbed deeply into the gash Squall had made earlier, and with a roar of effort he brought the sword slashing upwards, cleaving directly through the T-Rexaur’s flesh. Climhazzard completed, he jumped backwards, right as the T-Rexaur made one last dying bid to take down its attackers with it.

The room shook violently, plants were uprooted and cracks appeared in the ground. Cloud and Squall each leapt away from the dangerous position they found themselves in, while Rinoa clapped her hands, calling out “Float!” in an authoritative voice, and suddenly they were all floating a few inches off the ground. Out of energy, the T-Rexaur collapsed in a shower of green sparks.

“Squall!” There was a sudden commotion at the door, and a girl in a yellow sundress burst in, followed more sedately by a man in a beige trench coat and a cowboy hat. She skidded to a stop in front of their party, hands waving eagerly. “Are you all right? Were those T-Rexaurs?” Then she caught sight of Cloud. “And who’s _this_?”

“Give the man a chance to speak, Selphie,” the man in a cowboy hat spoke up, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“But I’ve never seen him before!” Selphie accused loudly, pointing a finger at Cloud. “And I know _everyone_!”

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache. Cloud could not fault him. “Your friends are very… _enthusiastic_ ,” Cloud told him quietly.

“Don’t I know it,” the Commander sighed.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Selphie yelped, hands on her hips.

Rinoa seemed to take pity on them, for she replied. “To answer your questions in order – yes, yes, and this is Cloud.” She waited a beat, and the evil smirk stretching across her face was the only warning they got. “Squall’s boyfriend.”

Twin smacks of palms against forehead sounded at this pronouncement.

Rinoa grinned unrepentantly back at Squall. “It’s the duty of an older sister to embarrass her younger brother,” she sing-songed, wagging a finger in front of his face.

“Squallie! You had a boyfriend and didn’t tell us? I thought we were friends! Where were you hiding him? And why was he fighting? He looks like a mummy swathed in those bandages!” Selphie complained.

Cloud glanced down at himself, for the first time taking in the sheer amount of bandages covering his torso. “Huh. Your Dr Kadowaki is really enthusiastic.” He made to unravel the bandages, only to be stopped by an actual shriek from Selphie.

“Oh my Eden, _don’t strip in public_! Do that in Squall’s bedroom or something!”

All the males present sent her disturbed looks. Rinoa simply looked delighted, the yaoi fangirl she was.

“Selphie,” Squall finally found his voice. “If I find a video camcorder in my room tonight, I will _eviscerate_ you.”

~*~*~*~*~

_Later._

There was a loud thump against the closed door, as if someone had fallen over and crashed into it, followed by muffled cursing and hasty shushing.

Cloud raised an eyebrow.

Squall raised his eyes to the ceiling as if in a prayer for patience.

Cloud snorted, shook his head, marched over to the door and pulled it open. The eavesdroppers collapsed in a pile of shrieks and flailing limbs. There was the unmistakeable clang of electronic equipment smashing into the floor, and a wail from its owner.

Squall buried his face in his hands.

Cloud fixed his stony gaze on the two males sheepishly picking themselves up from the floor, and hauled up the smallest girl, kicking and whining, by her collar. The man in a fedora accepted the squirming burden from him, while the other man tugged the glasses-wearing woman away by the arm.

The last woman dusted herself off and waved a finger at them, before following the rest down the corridor.

Squall made a sound not unlike a half-choked whimper as the door slammed shut once more, and although Cloud knew there was nothing sexual about it his mind instinctively leapt to the last time he’d heard Squall make that exact noise, spread-eagled under him.

Well, he had always been better at actions rather than words.

Squall’s eyes widened when the blond crowded into his personal space, even though he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. They did have unfinished business, after all.

A thumb ran gently across his lower lip, Cloud cupping his cheek as the blond claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss. Squall fisted both hands in blond strands and dragged the other man almost impossibly closer, until they were pressed chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh, the hot length of their cocks dragging against each other through the confinement of their pants.

Cloud’s other hand wandered lower, slipping under Squall’s loose shirt to splay over the smooth warm muscle of his lower back. Squall nipped playfully at his lips, releasing the stranglehold he had on Cloud’s gravity-defying spikes in favour of pressing their foreheads against each other. His own hands slid downwards, resting over the curve of Cloud’s ass. The muscles flexed deliberately under his touch, and he felt the other man smirk into the kiss.

By unspoken agreement, they broke off the kiss at the same time, and Cloud wasted no time in yanking Squall’s shirt off. Twin rings of luminescent cerulean glittered in the dim lighting of the room, the rest of Cloud’s eyes swallowed by his pupils, making the blond look like some sort of feline predator. They were standing so close that Squall could feel Cloud’s hot breath against his cheek with each exhale, see the way Cloud’s Adam apple bobbed with each swallow.

Cloud took a step backwards automatically when Squall crowded forwards, his back slamming into the wall. Fingers skimmed teasingly along his waistband, taking their time to reach the zip at the front. Cloud let his head fall back against the wall when Squall squeezed his semi-erect cock through his pants, his breath coming out in shorter gasps.

Then Squall stepped back, and without breaking the heated staring contest between them undid his own belts with the ease of long practice. Cloud could hear them clink carelessly onto the floor, four in total, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the stormy eyes, darkened in desire.

They crashed back into each other like two magnets snapping together, and the next few moments were a blur of discarded clothing tangling around stray limbs as their tongues duelled for dominance, and then finally, _finally_ Squall shoved his hips forwards, a small moan escaping his throat as their cocks ground against each other.

Without breaking the kiss, Cloud worked a hand in between their bodies. Getting a proper grip on both of them at the same time proved to be nearly impossible, and he was loathe to release the other hand he had on the back of Squall’s head. Then Squall’s hand joined his, a thumb swiping over Cloud’s weeping slit. Cloud’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his back arching involuntarily.

Taking advantage of the closeness between their bodies, Squall rocked forwards into their combined grip, precome slicking over Cloud’s hip. In response, Cloud sped up his strokes, wanting, _needing_ to make Squall fall apart in his hands. The kiss turned hotter, filthier, spurred on by the wet smack of skin against skin, the way Squall shoved a thigh between Cloud’s legs, the way Cloud’s hips stuttered frantically as he neared his own release.

Squall groaned as he felt Cloud’s cock _throb_ in his hand, hot seed spurting against his belly, hearing a breathless gasp of his name. Cloud’s grip slackened in the throes of his orgasm, but his own was there to pick up the pace, and a few more strokes was all he needed for his vision to white out.

They broke apart, gasping for air. Cloud’s legs felt like jelly, and he was pretty sure Squall’s slumped weight pinning him against the wall was the only thing keeping both of them upright at the moment. He felt Squall breathe slowly, measuredly, his head buried in the crook of Cloud’s shoulder and their chests plastered together.

“Maybe we can make it to the bed next time.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Squall! Get up! _Squall_!”

Squall was out of bed before he had even realised he was awake, Lionheart raised. “What is it?” he called out warily.

The door rattled again before slamming open altogether, Rinoa appearing in the doorway. Pulling her hairpin out of the lock she had just unapologetically picked, she shook her hair out of her eyes and continued hurriedly, “There has been a huge surge in monster activity since late yesterday afternoon. We have just received nearly simultaneous pleas for aid from just about every city with a working satellite connection.

Squall blinked and turned to regard Cloud, who was crouched on the floor holding Sidewinder. “Wasn’t that the time you arrived?”

Cloud’s face twisted into a slight frown. “You mean you think I caused that?” Absent-mindedly, his fingers reassembled First Tsurugi, which he had taken apart to clean last night, from rote memory.

“No,” interrupted Rinoa from the doorway. “It’s more likely that whatever attacked your world has now set its sights on ours. Monsters are far more in-tune to the workings of the planet than we are, so monster activity of this calibre likely means some sort of attack is going on.”

“Oh and you two?” She poked her head back into the room. “Put on some clothes, will you?” Her piece said, Rinoa skipped out merrily, laughing to herself at the cursing going on in Squall’s bedroom.

~*~*~*~*~

Cloud laid a steadying hand on Squall’s elbow as the Garden _shuddered_ violently. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the faint hum of engines kicking into gear, sounding remarkably like the helicopters he was used to.

The trees outside were suddenly much shorter than they had been yesterday. Didn’t they use to tower over the buildings?

“We’re… flying?”

“Gliding,” Squall corrected absently. He nodded briefly to Cloud, and resumed pelting down the corridors. They burst out into an atrium of sorts, and any other time Cloud would have stopped to behold the dazzling fountain, but now wasn’t the time. They skidded to a halt, Squall jabbing at the elevator button impatiently.

“No stairs?” Cloud had to ask, because surely they could run faster than an elevator could move. He’d seen Zack get to the fiftieth floor of Shinra Tower faster via the stairs than the elevator.

Squall scowled at the closed doors as though their mere existence had personally offended him. “I will _install_ one.”

They were through the doors before they had fully opened, and it was a long, agonising wait for the elevator to slide to a stop.

“For _one_ floor?” Cloud had to ask again.

Squall growled at him, flinging the doors to what was undoubtedly the main control room open. “Situation update?” he barked before he was fully through the doors.

The rest of his friends – at least, the people Cloud had been introduced to the previous day – glanced up from their various stations, and they all started speaking at the same time.

“Galbadia says they can’t hold out much longer –”

“Laguna’s barricaded Esthar, but the city walls were never meant to stand up to a whole herd of Malboros –”

“Fisherman’s Horizon is reporting some sort of massive creature coming to shore at an astonishing pace, and by massive they mean bigger than… wait, that can’t be right –”

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose, and raised his voice in a shout to be heard over the cacophony. “ _One by one._ ”

“The Shmi have retreated underground for now, so reception is a bit spotty,” reported the girl in the sunflower dress, not a trace of the previous day’s teasing on her face. “Their last transmission indicates that the blue dragons have come out of hibernation early.” She nodded at the man in the trench coat.

“Galbadian soldiers were meant to fight against _humans_ , not _monsters_. The monsters are almost through to the city – the villages are already overrun.”

Another woman, this one with a coiled whip at her waist, was next. “Esthar’s invisibility shield doesn’t work against this quantity of monsters, and there’s far too many strong ones for the automatic defence systems to take them down before they reach the city walls.

“Okay.” Squall turned to the last person manning a station, the blond who had reminded Cloud of Tifa. “Zell, what were you saying about Fisherman’s Horizon?”

“I must have misheard something,” muttered Zell, poking at his console, which was spitting out nothing but static now.

“What _did_ you think you heard?” pressed Squall.

“They said something huge was coming ashore, and the description was… bigger than the Garden? I mean, they could have meant _a garden_ , which would have made more sense –”

“ _Zell_.”

“Wha –” he looked up, dirty blond spikes swaying, only to see everyone giving him identical horrified looks.

“There’s only _one thing_ in the ocean bigger than Balamb Garden,” Rinoa said from behind Cloud, sweeping into the room. “Squall, a missive from the White SeeD ship – they had to leave the Centra continent post-haste when they spotted a stampede of Cactaur in the distance.”

“At least the Islands Closest to Heaven and Hell are far away from civilisation,” the woman with the whip sighed. She turned around, and Cloud noticed that she was wearing glasses. “What do we do, Squall?”

Squall hesitated for a brief moment, brief enough that Cloud almost missed it. “We split up. Selphie, you take the _Ragnarok_ and head for Trabia, the spaceship’s faster than the Garden. Irvine, Zell, go with her. Quistis, set a course for Galbadia, let’s see if we can save some of the civilians. Rinoa, I know you just got back, but you’re the only one who can reach Esthar before the city falls.”

There was a chorus of agreements as everyone other than the bespectacled woman left the room. Quistis, probably, seeing that she sat down in the pilot’s seat and immediately pulled up the navigation console.

“I’m going to grab us some rations. Quistis, you want anything?”

She shook her head, punching in a few coordinates and pushing some sort of lever before standing up. “I’m done. I’ll go check if the main entrance is properly sealed; Selphie might have rushed a couple of the pre-flight checks.”

~*~*~*~*~

Rinoa strode across the Quad to the cafeteria, Silenced Tear folded against her wrist launcher and Vanishing Star holstered in her belt. It was too early to take off just yet; she would hitch a ride on the mobile Garden until the sea, where it would turn towards Galbadia and she would make her way across the ocean.

It was bad. The levity in the control room might have just barely concealed it, but she could feel the tension in the room, like a rubber band about to snap. The SeeD might be the elite military in the world, but there were far too few of them – certainly not enough to hold back a multi-continental invasion of this size.

She knew it. Squall knew it. Everyone in that room – other than possibly Cloud, though she wouldn’t lay a bet on that given the haunted look in his eyes – knew it.

Ah, yes, the mysterious new arrival. Unbidden, a tiny smile lit up her eyes. After Ultimecia’s defeat, Squall had been… well, _brittle_ , to be honest. Barely eighteen and effectively the most powerful man in the world, close on the heels of so many ground-breaking revelations – he didn’t break, but it was a near thing. Why did the former Garden Headmaster ever think it was a good idea to dump every single one of his burdens on an amnesiac teenager?

When the summons from Cosmos came, he’d almost jumped at the chance to finally _do_ something useful. And along the way, apparently, he met someone good for him.

If they ever got the chance, she would take the blond out for dinner. There was a little hole-in-the-wall in Esthar that did steaks absolutely worth the three-hour non-stop flight for.

After all, the only thing in the ocean of that size was Ultima WEAPON, and if Fisherman’s Horizon could see it then it was headed straight for Galbadia.

And if Ultima had awoken, what about Omega?

Nodding to the supplies master, Rinoa crammed as many ration bars into her waist pouch as it could fit. The last one, she opened and bit into, grimacing at the dryness.

The sense of wrongness that had propelled her out of bed early in the morning abruptly solidified in the back of her mind into a buzz of white noise.

Silenced Tear was primed and ready before Rinoa had consciously registered clenching her fist to activate the hidden mechanism, the ration bar in her hand falling forgotten to the ground even as she whirled around.

“ _EVERYBODY GET DOWN!_ ”

~*~*~*~*~

“Checking the perimeter?”

Irvine nodded at Quistis, shooting her a rueful look. “Yeah, Selphie could be a little… scatter-minded at times.” Exeter was holstered against his thigh, alongside a belt of shotgun cartridges that clicked lightly against each other as he moved, testing each of the turnstiles to make sure they were all inactivated.

“Tell me about it,” Quistis snorted. A blast of wind knocked her glasses askew, and she straightened them, frowning.

“Quistis…”

She looked up at the sound of her name, the tone oddly tentative for the gunslinger, and froze.

That was no warm updraft.

~*~*~*~*~

With nothing else to do, Squall went to check on the _Ragnarok_ , tucked away in its purpose-built hangar behind the Training Centre on the second floor. Naturally, Cloud followed suit. Selphie popped up from the belly of the airship, waving energetically as he came near, a wrench in her mouth.

“Refuelled?”

“Yep!” She tossed the wrench casually onto the floor, swinging herself down from the engine with the sort of ease that spoke of long practice, the sort that Cloud had often seen from Cid before. “All done, don’t worry about it, Squallie.”

Cloud hid a smirk as Squall scowled uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath that the blond would bet good munny was “whatever”.

The red climbing rope Selphie had been using came free with a tug, and upon a second look Cloud realised that it wasn’t rope at all, but instead a pair of nunchakus, with sea-green weights on each end. Her weapon of choice, he hazarded a guess, being misappropriated as climbing equipment.

About to confirm his guess with Squall – Selphie had disappeared into the cockpit – Cloud was brought up short by the look on the brunet’s face. “What is it?”

“Something’s not right.”

Cloud blinked at him, because nothing had pinged _his_ Mako-enhanced senses, but before he could open his mouth again Squall had run over to the balcony. The gunblader peered out into the void, his voice a little bemused.

“Do you hear… wings?”

~*~*~*~*~

Three running strides brought her to the Quad, where Zell’s voice had originated from.

In the span of two breaths, she had processed the scene.

One enemy, all of its attention focussed on Zell atop his T-board, who was charging straight at it.

Silenced Tear leapt almost unbidden from her wrist, the soft whirr of spinning blades covered up by Zell’s war cry. The Granaldo reared back and spat a glob of black tar directly at him, its four wings carrying it safely out of the way as the Blinded Zell shot straight past it and crashed heavily into the far wall. Its attention completely caught by the martial artist, the giant wasp never even noticed her before Silenced Tear sliced through two of its wings in one fluid motion.

Shrieking, the Granaldo spun around to face her, compound eyes glittering with untold fury.

Arm outstretched towards the returning Silenced Tear, Rinoa _gestured_ authoritatively. A miniature Tornado twisted into existence in the middle of the Quad, her blaster edge at its eye. The giant wasp barely had time to scream before it was sucked into the vortex and shredded by the violent winds.

Only when the monster’s death was confirmed did Rinoa cancel the Tornado with a snap of her fingers, retrieving Silenced Tear with barely a thought. Silence fell like the curtains at the end of an Act, along with the wrecked remains of the wooden benches formerly lining the centre of the Quad.

Zell groaned, getting to his feet. He rubbed his watering eyes, tossing his Eye Drops back into his pack. “Man, Selphie’s going to be really sad you destroyed her auditorium. Where’s she going to hold her concerts now?”

Rinoa shook her head. If it came to that, she would personally build Selphie a new auditorium. “That wasn’t the only one.”

“Yeah, I’d guessed that.” Zell kicked his hoverboard upright, hopping back on. “Which way?”

“The main entrance.”

~*~*~*~*~

“How did _that_ even get here?”

“Don’t ask me!” retorted Quistis. Her leather whip wrapped around Irvine’s waist, and he shuddered, chasing the visions of being strangled by a Malboro away with a determined shake of his head. Quistis’ whip might have been made from Malboro tentacles, but she wouldn’t hurt him.

He hoped.

The Ruby Dragon roared again, its very breath enough to create a gale, and Irvine would have gone flying if it wasn’t for the makeshift harness. He chanced a glance back at Quistis, who had tied the other end of Save the Queen to one of the turnstiles and was using another of the pillars as cover. The sparks of golden-coloured magic coming from her direction told him all he needed to know.

Right, he was to be the bait then.

While his attention had been briefly on his teammate, his hands hadn’t been idle; Irvine prided himself on being the best sharpshooter in SeeD, and that was no mere boast. Being able to reload his shotgun without looking was one of the first things the range instructor had beaten into their heads.

 _Bet the geezer hadn’t been talking about ‘while dangling like some sort of tasty bait from a fishing rod in front of a Ruby Dragon’,_ he thought wryly. And perhaps, the Irvine Kinneas of a year ago – young, foolish, and untried by fire – would have frozen, would have fumbled.

Saving the world had the tendency of giving a man _perspective_.

Exeter barked out, once, twice, each time hitting its target squarely. Well, although it was sort of difficult to _miss_ a target that big. Irvine clicked his tongue, the only sign of his irritation as the two bullets bounced harmlessly off with a shower of sparks.

“It’s got Reflect up!”

What a waste of his new elemental bullets, courtesy of Esthar.

His fingers closed around the cartridge of Armour Shot by feel alone, eyes widening in alarm at the Ruby Dragon reared back, magic gathering at the tips of its claws.

The familiar feeling of being wrapped in cotton wool washed over him a moment barely before the Firaga hit, and Irvine flinched instinctively as he was enveloped in flames, even though Quistis’ Mighty Guard took the brunt of the blow and all he felt was something similar to being dipped in a hot sauna. But although his eyes closed automatically against the heat his hands didn’t falter, and he swung out of the conflagration already shooting.

This time, the Ruby Dragon cried out in pain as the armour-piercing shots bit deep into soft flesh at the junction between leg and torso, where there was a chink in its hard armour plating. Seizing the opportunity, Irvine emptied the full cartridge into the monster, even as he felt himself being reeled back in towards safety.

His back hit one of the turnstiles, and Irvine fumbled behind him, getting a hand on the metal. Exeter’s muzzle drooped slightly, but Quistis was there to pick up the slack, exhaling a cloud of poisonous gas right into the Ruby Dragon’s face.

Palm slapping against the metal pillar, Irvine vaulted over the turnstile, untying Save the Queen from his waist as soon as he was safely behind the metal rails. They wouldn’t serve as much fortification, especially not against a Ruby Dragon’s attacks, but at least he wouldn’t be in danger of falling completely off the Garden.

Quistis nodded her thanks tersely when Irvine tossed her whip over, shoving her glasses up her nose with her other hand as she inspected her handiwork. Irvine too glanced over at the Ruby Dragon and had to suppress a shudder. Bright red scales were almost obscured by the Bad Breath, and where the sickly green miasma spread to scales began to rust, to rot, even to fall off.

“Crisis Level too low,” the woman cursed under her breath as the majority of the negative status effects skittered off the Ruby Dragon’s tough hide like water off a duck’s back. “Come on, Slow, Slow, _yes_!”

Irvine took the fraction of a second out from reloading Exeter to give her a fist-bump.

The Ruby Dragon snarled, joints creaking audibly as it tried to flap its wings faster, but Irvine knew the feeling of being Slowed. It was like the air had turned as viscous as mud, each movement laboured under the weight of a thousand boulders.

In fact…

“Is it me, or is the dragon getting further and further away?”

“Yep.” Quistis popped the ‘p’, hands braced on her hips. “Let’s give it a little push.” She held out her right hand, twisting her wrist in a complicated little wave, and even though Irvine couldn’t understand what she was casting he could see the effects of it.

Gravity-based magic.

An orb wreathed in crackling lightning and twisted light enveloped the Ruby Dragon. It redoubled its efforts to escape, but its wings might as well have been carved from stone. Space around the orb warped, forcibly compressing the Ruby Dragon, until finally it gave a hacking cry and began to plummet.

The two of them leaned over the turnstiles, Quistis holding her glasses with one hand to prevent them from falling off and Irvine shielding his eyes with one hand, to see it hit the ground far below with a deafening thud.

As though waking from a trance, they blinked at each other.

“The great king of the dragons, defeated by the laws of physics.” Quistis covered her smile with a hand, looking inordinately smug.

Irvine didn’t bother hiding his snort behind a veneer of politeness. “It’s going to be _really_ pissed off when it comes back, isn’t it.”

“Right,” Quistis said briskly, pulling out the emerald pendant around her neck where she kept her Guardian Forces junctioned. “Get ready for Round Two.”

~*~*~*~*~

The mobile Garden listed horribly to one side, and it was probably a really good thing Cloud was used to working with Squall, because that meant he had been paying peripheral attention to the other fighter and reacted the moment the brunet was thrown directly into his line of fire. As things stood, he barely managed to redirect his Blade Beam at the last possible moment, sending most of it towards the poor defenceless wall.

The wall shuddered and sparked, but didn’t implode. He was grudgingly impressed.

“Which Odin-bedamned idiot just cast Demi on a _flying_ craft?” demanded Selphie crossly, sitting up and rubbing her head from where she had hit the far wall.

Squall scowled, Lionheart still angled defensively across his body. He’d been able to deflect the remaining energy with his gunblade, but it’d taken the wind out of him – Cloud hadn’t managed to pull the blow, only change its direction.

Sensing an opportunity, the giant bat-like creature raised its clawed wings almost mockingly. Cloud’s impression of it was confirmed when giant letters began appearing one after another above its head, clearly spelling out the name of some sort of attack. He’d seen a couple of people – read: Reno and Zack – announce their attacks like they were in some sort of superhero movie, but this would be the first time he saw a monster do it.

“D-A-R?”

“Dark Flare, Tiamat’s signature attack,” growled Squall, but his explanation was nearly inaudible under Selphie’s scream.

“It’s trying to shoot us out of the sky!”

Cloud took a centring breath, blocking out his jolt of shock, his peripheral awareness of Squall struggling to his feet, the sound of Selphie starting some kind of magical chant in the background.

**D-A-R-K-F-**

The other two wouldn’t make it in time.

**D-A-R-K-F-L-A-**

He would not fail.

His aura spilled out in swirling motes of golden light, the strength of his determination propelling him forwards. Cloud drew back a fraction, kicking off from the balcony to meet the giant flying monster in its domain. A downwards stroke of First Tsurugi – faster than a blink, too quickly for human eyes to follow – transited smoothly into a horizontal one like the sweep of a calligraphy brush, and then another vertical slash to form the trappings of his Cross-Slash. A half-step back, and a final thrust home sealed the character for paralysis on the monster’s chest.

Tiamat screeched, and Cloud winced at the affront to his sensitive ear drums, even as he used the monster’s shoulder as a springboard to launch himself back towards the balcony.

Dimly, he registered the hail of frost-coated bullets flying past him, and Squall’s panicked shout, “It resists Petrify!”

**D-A-R-K-F-L-A-R-E**

Too late.

~*~*~*~*~

“It’s circling back,” reported Irvine, leaning casually against the turnstile. Exeter was propped against the top of the metal pillar, ready for action the moment the Ruby Dragon entered its range. “I think the Slow’s worn off.”

Quistis didn’t reply, beads of sweat dotting her brow, her pendant clutched tightly in one hand. The air around her fairly hummed with energy, so much so that even Irvine could feel it like tangible tendrils brushing against his skin, and he was about as magic-sensitive as a rock.

The Ruby Dragon rose above the clouds like a king reclaiming his rightful throne, loosening a deafening roar the moment it spotted them. Irvine tensed automatically, but he could still feel the effects of Mighty Guard cushioning him. And Quistis was channelling a Guardian Force at the moment, so she would be immune to attacks.

He ducked behind a pillar right before the dragon’s putrid Breath engulfed them, fighting the urge to hold his breath. He couldn’t afford that sort of distraction, not if he – by the look of things – needed to buy Quistis enough time to finish summoning Doomtrain. Irvine took aim, squinting his eyes against the sting, but his fingers hesitated over the trigger. Exeter was loaded entirely with Fast Ammo, which true to their name were light and quick, but would be akin to a horde of angry mosquitoes when up against the Ruby Dragon’s tough scales. It would be a complete waste; he’d been depending on Doomtrain’s Vit Zero debuff to maximise their impact…

Nothing for it, then. Not unless a miracle –

As though summoned directly from Irvine’s thoughts, the front doors of the Garden blasted open, and a veritable cannonball streaked through the air, striking the Ruby Dragon with sufficient force to blow away the lingering Breath in an instant.

Landing atop one of the metal turnstiles, Angelo tilted his head inquisitively at the Ruby Dragon, wagged its tail, and trotted back to his owner. Without taking her eyes off their opponent, Rinoa bent down to give him a dog biscuit and a pat on the head.

Zell skidded to a stop next to the marksman, his tattoos stretching into the familiar wild grin. “Having fun without us?”

Irvine exhaled, and lifted his finger from the trigger. “Odin forbid,” he muttered drily.

Zell opened his mouth to deliver some witty reply, and Irvine had never been happier to be interrupted by the clatter of ghostly tracks being laid down by an invisible construction crew, and the eerie shriek of a fully corporeal Doomtrain steamrollering across all that lay in its path.

~*~*~*~*~

“Squall, your boyfriend is _nuts_.”

Lionheart braced against the railing of the balcony, Squall didn’t bother correcting Selphie.

He’d been ready to intercept – Mako-enhanced Cloud was strong, far stronger than he could ever be, but surely even he would need a moment to catch his breath after deflecting one of the strongest attacks in the world – except the blond didn’t so much as attempt to defend himself. Instead, Cloud serenely rightened himself in mid-air, shifted First Tsurugi into a two-handed hold, and took the fully charged Dark Flare head-on. Right before he was swallowed whole, Squall could have sworn he saw the outline of a brunette in a pink dress touch his arm.

In a blink she was gone, her image flickering out like a mirage in a desert, and her presence was already forgotten as Squall rushed to the balcony with an alacrity he would forever deny, Selphie’s horrified scream ringing in his ears. Only the memory of Cloud’s composure – the face of a warrior who knew exactly what he was doing, rather than someone prepared to sacrifice himself – kept him from descending into outright panic.

_Exactly what happened in his world, for him to need to learn how to tank a boss attack?_

Then the ball of supercharged plasma shook, and began splitting apart like the shell of a ripe pod. Squall stood, mouth agape, as Cloud rocketed upwards, a film of blue light enveloping him like the shell of a comet, cleaving the Dark Flare into two neat halves that fell harmlessly away.

And then he kept going.

First Tsurugi struck Tiamat like the clash of two cymbals together, and only Squall’s long-familiarity with Cloud’s fighting style let him note the moment Cloud’s dominant hand shifted on the fusion sword’s hilt, bracing it for the impact. The giant bat-like monster _screamed_ in agony as the blond’s momentum carried him inexorably forwards, Climhazzard carving a swathe through its flesh.

At the apex of his jump, Cloud glanced down, and Squall leapt aside just in time for the other swordsman to land on the balcony in a perfectly-balanced crouch. Blond spikes flopped forwards as Cloud exhaled slowly, carefully, First Tsurugi resting against the floor. At a closer look, he wasn’t as unscathed as he first appeared – where the Dark Flare’s extreme heat had seared through the protective barrier around him, tiny blisters peppered his exposed skin like goosebumps.

Cloud’s face was lined with fatigue, but when he raised his head the ghost of a smirk was glittering in bright blue eyes.

_How’s that, Leonhart?_

Then they widened.

Squall’s head snapped up at the tingle of healing magic being cast above them, and for a moment he couldn’t even parse what he was seeing. White light enveloped the bisected Tiamat, realigning broken bones and knitting scorched flesh back together. In mere moments, the giant bat was again hovering above them, looking as though the past minute had never happened.

It was also very, very pissed off.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”

~*~*~*~*~

With a last mournful whistle, Doomtrain vanished from mortal sight, returning to whatever dimension it normally resided in when intrepid adventurers weren’t summoning it to do their bidding. Almost before the last wisps of smoke had cleared, Irvine was up and firing, Quick Shot drumming out a rapid staccato against bruised-purple scales.

“Yeehaw!”

Had he been less focused maximising his damage output, Irvine would have rolled his eyes at his fellow warrior’s antics. Instead, he had to settle for skimming a few warning shots against Zell’s cheek, so close they ruffled dirty blond spikes. Zell, the adrenaline junkie he was, didn’t even flinch away. His entire body twisted in mid-air, and he rammed his T-board with all its built-up momentum in the mockery of an uppercut straight into the Ruby Dragon’s throat.

Catching the hoverboard with one hand and tossing it carelessly back towards the rest of them without a backwards glance – Angelo made a leap for it and snatched it out of the air like an oddly-shaped Frisbee – Zell landed with a thud on the Ruby Dragon’s armour-plated head, a triumphant war cry erupting from his chest. Rinoa bent down, ruffling his hair fondly as her pet proudly presented her with his spoils. Angelo wagged his tail, happily trading the T-board for another dog treat.

The last Fast Ammo shell was ejected, but before it hit the floor with soft ‘plink’ Irvine’s free hand was already slotting a new cartridge in place. He glanced back, just in case one of the girls wanted some space to land a shot of their own, but no – Rinoa seemed content to watch for the moment, although Vanishing Star was unsheathed and Silenced Tear primed, while Quistis had her arms akimbo, her whip dangling loosely from one hand.

The Ruby Dragon shook its head violently, and halfway through a Duel sequence Zell jerked backwards, cancelling his Punch Rush, but it was too late to grab on. One giant claw came swinging up, and for a moment it seemed as though it would come down to a showdown between Ehrgeiz and Claw Swipe.

Save the Queen shot out, snaking around Zell’s ankle and yanking him artlessly away, moments before Zell would really have needed to test the integrity of his gloves against wickedly curved claws. Quistis reeled him back in, glasses glinting as though she were a strict teacher schooling an errant child.

Yet again deprived of its immediate target, the Ruby Dragon evidently had enough of the scurrying of these little cockroaches who persisted in making a fool of it. Irvine dove behind the turnstiles as a veritable hurricane kicked up from a single flap of the dragon’s wings, squinting his eyes against the roaring winds to confirm that it was putting some distance between them.

Metal screeched and threatened to bend in the gale. The turnstiles were durable, but apparently the constructors didn’t take into account “being used as a defensive shield against monster attacks”. They wouldn’t hold for much longer.

Rinoa unfolded herself from the floor, regal as a queen surveying her dominion. “That’s enough, I think.” Silenced Tear leapt from her outstretched arm, slicing through the howling winds like a shard of diamond through glass. She _gestured_ , and almost immediately the winds began to die away, cancelled by an equal and opposite force of nature. A faint crease of her brow was the only evidence as to the amount of strain she must be under, to both generate and direct such a precise application of Tornado.

Irvine exhaled slowly. He would be properly awed by the grandiose display of Sorceress power, later, when the Ruby Dragon was safely delivered to Odin’s realm. For now –

His fingers closed over the cartridge of Pulse Ammo, one of the only two he carried. Hopefully the Ruby Dragon would drop some energy crystals for him to replenish his dwindling supply.

The cartridge slotted into place with a click of finality, and Irvine tugged at his cowboy hat, adjusting it in an absent motion. His party members glanced his way, and he knew that they understood the unspoken signal.

_I’m going in._

They’d worked out a series of nonverbal signals long ago, so that they wouldn’t get into each other’s way by accident. Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of Zell’s Armageddon Fist, or Rinoa’s Berserker Meteor Barrage (“That is _such_ a horrible name, I demand you change it!”), or Squall’s Lion Heart.

For Irvine, it was his Hyper Shot.

A miniature star burst into being at the business end of Exeter, coalescing in a shining beam of light that struck the Ruby Dragon head-on with sufficient force to knock it back a step. Upon physical contact, the star went supernova, painting the sky with brilliant streaks of red-orange-yellow.

Irvine calmly pulled the pump handle back, ejected the first shell, and depressed the trigger again.

And again.

The Ruby Dragon squawked in outrage, and as though in slow motion it swerved, trying to avoid the next Shot.

Wait, it _was_ moving in slow motion. One of the girls must have cast Haste on him while he wasn’t paying attention. Now that he was looking for it, there was a lightness to each motion, a clarity to his awareness that wasn’t present before. Irvine shifted his aim a centimetre to the right, and as though the dragon had never tried to evade him the next shot caught it directly in its gaping maw. Giant wings beat the air in agony, the dragon’s jaw distended beyond what mere tendon and cartilage could support.

It wouldn’t be long now.

But there was a sort of tension rife in the air, and Irvine didn’t think it was all in his imagination.

Quistis’ voice came through the haze, each word distorted oddly as though she was speaking underwater, though he knew it to be the effect of Haste on his hearing. “It wants to take us down with it!”

The skies darkened as though heralding a tempest, but it was something far worse than simple rain or lightning. Ten meteors the size of battering rams appeared over the horizon, and a single one of them would shred the mobile Garden like wet tissue.

“Two each, three if you can manage it!”

Irvine unloaded one final Hyper Shot into the falling Ruby Dragon just to be sure, and when it didn’t so much as twitch swung Exeter upwards. He had just two out of the original eight volleys left, and none of his other attacks would work on a meteor of that size.

Zell slammed his fists together, the metal studs clinking, looking far too excited for someone who could potentially be walking towards his doom.

… actually, that was exactly like Zell. Irvine didn’t even know why he was vaguely surprised.

Very deliberately, Quistis adjusted the position of her glasses.

Oh, Shiva, Shockwave Pulsar? At this rate they were going to take the Garden down themselves by sheer accident.

But there was no time to argue, and everyone patiently waited as Quistis lifted her hand, summoning orbs that surrounded the furthest meteor. Irvine had to brace a hand on the turnstiles – the poor, abused structures – to remain standing as the orbs began gyrating around the chosen meteor, generating a powerful vacuum that they could feel even at this distance.

The nearest two meteors shuddered, caught inexorably in the gravitational pull of the vortex, inertia struggling against insurmountable force. But Shockwave Pulsar was winning out, anyone with eyes could see that. The three meteors crashed into each other, and the resultant explosion lit up the sky like distant fireworks.

Taking his chance, Irvine expended his remaining two Hyper Shots, picking off the two meteors in the middle in a shower of smithereens. Hopefully the remaining two distinct clusters were far enough for Rinoa and Zell to avoid friendly fire.

Zell bounced on the balls of his feet, jumping easily onto one of the metal turnstiles with a solid thunk of combat boots. He bent his knees, and _leapt_. Wings flashed into existence at his ankles, probably courtesy of Rinoa, and the melee fighter shot upwards like a tiny vicious bullet. Irvine shielded his eyes with one hand, his keen sight picking out Zell unleashing his standard four-hit series of punches on the closest meteor.

Rinoa hopped over the turnstiles and stepped delicately off the edge. Between one step and the next giant wings exploded from her back, scattering a cascade of feathers. At a shrill whistle Angelo bounded into his owner’s arms, tongue lolling out in the mimicry of a grin.

Zell steadily stalled and reared back, before head-butting the meteor with a ‘thunk’ that was audible even where they were. It didn’t seem to have done any good, not even a visible crack on the meteor, but Zell didn’t seem to be fazed. Ehrgeiz scrabbled for purchase on the rough surface of the meteor, and then with a mighty swing – unlike Quistis, he didn’t seem to have tried to cancel out the forward force of the meteor, but rather _redirected_ it sideways – flung it at the nearest meteor. Running up the side of the meteor, he delivered a powerful piledriver into its side, locking it onto its collision course.

Hovering next to the final cluster of meteors, Rinoa petted Angelo and whispered something to him. Whatever she said, Angelo obediently dove out of her arms, landing on one of the meteors. Fur rippled along his flanks, muscles expanded, and where there had been a cute little puppy there now stood a giant dog easily a third the size of the meteor. Folding her wings against her back, Rinoa swung herself astride the canine behemoth’s back, tangling her hands into coarse strands of hair longer than her arm. She leaned forwards, and Angelo pounced onto the next meteor like a playful puppy playing fetch with his favourite ball.

Another mighty head-butt from Zell, and then he flipped off the side of the meteor into the sky, speeding forwards to finish off his martial arts sequence with a flying kick supercharged with the strength of his will. The meteor crashed into its neighbour like a derailed train, and Zell threw up his arms to protect himself against the shrapnel.

Angelo sped up into the opening sequence for Wishing Star, shattering the sound barrier with a reverberating boom. Afterimages streaked through the air until Irvine could no longer pick out the original even with his eyes, looping around the last three meteors with dizzying speed, knocking them into each other like particularly large bowling pins. With all three gathered together, Angelo appeared in the sky above them like a god reigning supreme, and cannonballed fearlessly downwards with a final deafening clap of thunder.

The very air _shook_ , and the floor roiled under their feet like a living thing as the last shockwave rolled over the entire Garden. Irvine and Quistis both hit the ground rather than attempt to remain upright, keeping a wary eye out for stray debris – a relative word, since any of those remnant pieces were easily bigger than them.

With a triumphant series of yipping barks, Angelo – once again in cute little doggie mode – trotted into their midst, cheerfully oblivious to the way the other humans edged away from him. Wings tucked away, Rinoa beamed like a particularly proud parent, petting him as he wagged his tail repeatedly.

“Good boy.”

That was one _scary_ puppy.

~*~*~*~*~

“ _Since when can Tiamat cast curatives?_ ”

The brunet resisted the urge to rescue his ear drums from Selphie’s shrieking. “Since _now_ , apparently. Why did we never question why it’s carrying all those Full-Lifes?”

The giant bat hovered in mid-air, wings beating with a heavy rhythm as though it were asleep. They’d finally managed to get a Slow to stick, enough to buy time for Squall to change his elemental defence junctions to make himself immune to fire. Dark Flare wasn’t a problem now. No, the problem now was that it. Just. Wouldn’t. _Die_.

“It heals itself the moment its health drops below half,” offered Cloud, leaning on First Tsurugi for support. Squall sent him a side-eyed look. The problem was, of course, that the number of attacks in their arsenal that could deal that sort of massive damage were severely limited. Even with Slow, Squall couldn’t manage two consecutive Lion Heart finishers before Tiamat healed itself again. They’d even tried summoning Griever in their desperation, but the summoning sequence was far too long for it to be an effective tactic.

He and Cloud could probably do it together, but he didn’t think Cloud could muster up the energy for an Omnislash for a while yet.

Which left the two of them playing bait, while –

“How long more are you going to take?”

“Shut up, Squallie! It’s not like I can choose what comes out of my Slots!”

“It’s been _ten minutes_!” He could hear distant explosions that suggested they weren’t the only ones caught up in a battle, but he was stuck in a fight that just refused to end.

Taking advantage of the lull in the battle when Tiamat was restarting its count down, Cloud touched his shoulder. “At least she _can_ redo.” His eyes dimmed in some memory, and Squall sent him an inquiring glance. Anything to take his mind off the extended wait. “I… knew someone with the same Limit Break. She had to make do with what she got.”

“See, _someone_ appreciates me!”

Squall gave into the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just… shuffle faster.”

“Yeah, yeah, go make out with your boyfriend or something – _aha_!”

Choosing to ignore that first comment, Squall focused on the most important thing in that sentence. “Found it?”

“Found it,” parroted Selphie, grinning like a lunatic as she stood up from where she had been crouched behind her Slots machine. “Prepare to die, Tiamat!” She brandished her fist at it, and then slammed her hand down on the Slots machine. “ _The End_.”

At precisely that moment, the entire Garden quivered, as though struck by an earthquake. Completely unprepared, all three of them fought to keep their footing.

“It wasn’t me!” squeaked Selphie, bracing herself against her Slots machine.

Tiamat gave a great shudder, wings stilling in the finality of death, but as it fell the claws upon its wings caught the edge of the balcony railing. Metal screeched like nails on a chalkboard as the railing bent under its weight, and finally with a great rending shriek the entire balcony tore away completely.

The Garden shook in the wake of another seismic shock, as though it were a sailing boat trembling at the mercy of the roiling waves in a storm. Cloud planted his feet further apart and bent his knees, using his fusion sword as a crutch to steady himself against the sudden intrusion of whipping winds.

He glanced over at his fellow party members, just in time to see Selphie’s Limit Break vanish, its job done. Completely unprepared, she pitched forwards with an ear-splitting scream –

– Squall lunged forwards –

– the floor tilted –

– and the sky opened up beneath them both.

Cloud dove for the two of them, boots scrabbling for purchase on the metal floor, the distant clatter of First Tsurugi hitting the far wall barely registering in his mind. Reached out, stretched –

– felt a hand grasp his –

“RINOA!”

~*~*~*~*~

Half a Garden away, the Sorceress’ head snapped up, all traces of humour vanishing from her face.

“Squall’s in trouble.”

~*~*~*~*~

His pulse rabbited in his throat, quick and unsteady. The jagged edges of the metal floorplates dug into the soft wool of his sweater vest, but he hardly felt them at all. Cloud breathed in, slowly, and out.

“Don’t you dare let go.”

Suspended in mid-air, Squall gave a strained chuckle. “Not planning to.”

“Good.” Cloud grunted, locking his abdominal muscles in preparation –

“Squall!”

His hand tightened reflexively on the brunet’s in shock, fragile bones grinding together under his fingers. Either he was hallucinating, which would be very alarming given that he was the only thing between Squall and certain death, or that was really Rinoa hovering next to Squall, massive white wings greater than his arm span sprouting from her back.

Then Squall spoke to the vision. “I’m fine! Go after Selphie!”

Without wasting any more time on words, Rinoa folded her wings behind her like a giant bird of prey and plunged down into the clouds.

A gloved hand grabbed his wrist, squeezing in warning, and belatedly Cloud remembered to loosen his grip to human standards. His other hand clenched on the edge of one floorplate, his entire body tensing in preparation.

In, out.

This was going to _hurt_.

Liked a newly-released coiled spring, he burst into motion. A blast of stored momentum rolled him sideways and then onto his back, even as biceps flexed and hauled Squall bodily upwards –

– feeling Lionheart’s edge shred his favourite vest like it was made of tissue paper and bite deep into his flesh –

With the last of his strength, Cloud flung Squall over and onto solid ground, the gunblade previously trapped under his body following suit a moment later.

The adrenaline crash hit his system hard, then, and it was all he could do to drag himself the few agonising inches into the nearest corner, safe from the buffeting winds. Cloud lay on his back, trying to slow his panting, in a vain attempt to not aggravate his wounds further.

~*~*~*~*~

The hangar door burst open, the rest of his friends almost falling into the room in their haste.

“Squall!”

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

Squall brushed off their concerns with a wave of his hand. In three long strides he had crossed the hangar, and was crouched beside Cloud’s fallen form before any of them had even noticed the blond sprawled in the corner.

Cloud’s eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, long lashes brushing against cheeks sapped of all colour. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he was still alive.

Squall hesitated, steeling himself, and then unzipped Cloud’s sweater vest. His hands didn’t shake, which was a miracle in itself, not even when the tattered wool fell away to reveal a deep diagonal slash that looked like someone had done a hack job of bisecting Cloud’s torso.

“Stop hovering.”

The brunet exhaled shakily, not bothering to pretend it wasn’t in sheer relief, and hunkered down into a lounging seat against the wall, propping his right arm on his bent knee. Apologies didn’t seem to quite cover the circumstances. “You’re hurt.”

“Would you rather I let your gunblade fall?”

Squall winced, because yeah, his statement of the obvious deserved that acerbic response. “No, it’s not –” he sighed. “I hate seeing people get hurt.” The words slipped out in the tone of a confession.

Cloud cracked an eye open, just a sliver of glowing blue. “Then you picked the wrong occupation.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, matching the same tone that Squall had used.

The gunblader was saved from replying by a commotion at the hangar entrance – the _new_ entrance, rather – as Selphie tumbled gracelessly from Rinoa’s arms onto the floor, loudly professing her love for its existence. As the others crowded around her, Angelo ran up to his owner, yipping in excitement.

“Did you lead them here? Good boy!”

Squall shook his head with a tiny fond smile. The _things_ that dog would do for a biscuit.

A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up to see Rinoa crouched in front of them. Her fair features were twisted in worry as she gave Cloud a once-over. “Did you run out of Curaga?”

Squall shook his head. “Spells don’t work on him. His magic resistance is at least as high as yours.”

“So _that’s_ why he could tank a fully-charged Dark Flare?” His friends had drifted closer, and now they all stared at Selphie in varying degrees of shock.

“Seriously?”

Selphie nodded enthusiastically at Irvine, gesticulating wildly. “Yeah! Me and Squallie thought he must’ve been a goner, but no – he just swung that giant sword of his, and cut both the Dark Flare and the Tiamat in half!” She scowled in remembrance, then. “If it wasn’t for the stupid Full-Life, we could have finished Tiamat off in the next hit.”

“ _Tiamat_ cast Full-Life? Are you sure?”

“Well, yeeeeah,” Selphie dragged out the last word. “It was nearly dead – cut in half, no kidding – and then it was as good as new. What else could it be?”

“It was definitely a healing spell of some kind,” interrupted Squall before Quistis could interrogate her further. “It felt like one, and there were green sparks everywhere. And we all know Tiamat carries a stash of Full-Life.”

Ignoring the rest of them, Rinoa settled next to Cloud, folding her legs underneath herself. “May I try?”

A corner of Cloud’s mouth twitched wryly. “Go ahead.” It was said in the blasé tone of someone who’d seen it all and tried it all, but was willing to humour her anyway.

The Sorceress stretched out her right hand, the very tips of her fingers ghosting over the gash, green sparks dancing down her arm. They twined around the edges of the injury, attempting to stitch it back together, but Squall didn’t need the frown of concentration on his sister’s face to tell him it wasn’t working. Instead of mending skin, the sparks were fizzing off, as though blocked by an invisible barrier of some kind.

Rinoa’s fingertips came away bloodied, but she didn’t seem to notice, staring at her fingers as though she’d never seen them before. “Something’s absorbing the magic before it can take effect,” she stated with surety.

“That’ll be the Mako.”

Squall _jumped_ , hand falling instinctively to his belt before belatedly realising that he’d left Lionheart where it had fallen across the room. Rinoa jerked back in shock, her left arm automatically rising to point Silenced Tear at the new arrival.

“It’s _always_ the Mako,” Cloud muttered absently, as though he spoke to sudden visions of brunette women every day. Or perhaps it was just this brunette? Upon a closer look, Squall recognised her from earlier, during the fight against Tiamat. He’d dismissed it as a mirage instigated by the superheated air around the Dark Flare, but –

Then Cloud’s eyes snapped open, and he made to sit up with a choked gasp, “ _Aerith_?”

Squall made a lunge forwards, shoving the blond down before he could further exacerbate his injury. “Cloud, lie down!”

“Hey, Chocobo-head, try not to work yourself into an early grave, okay?”

Like a switch had been flipped, all the fight drained out of Cloud in an instant. “Zack,” he whispered weakly, eyes fixed on the black-haired man leaning casually against the wall on his other side as though he’d always been there. What caught Squall’s attention was the sleeveless sweater vest he wore, identical to Cloud’s. A friend in the military, perhaps?

It didn’t take a genius to work out that they must be from Cloud’s old world. But how did they get here?

The brunette had the audacity to giggle. “Silly Cloud.” She looked up at the rest of them, who were shooting the two of them wary looks, but at least seemed willing to hold off the violent reactions for now. “Introduce us to your new friends, will you?”

Cloud blinked, for once looking flabbergasted. “They can _see_ you?” His head swung to the side, confirming by the shocked looks on their faces that yes, they could indeed see the two of them.

The black-haired man laughed softly. “Aren’t you giving Aerith too little credit? Though, I’ll admit, I’m not quite sure how she got us to manifest to everyone here either.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, suddenly looking very much like a kicked puppy despite the gigantic sword – were impractically-large weapons a requirement in their military or something? – strapped to his back.

_It reminded me of a friend._

Had Cloud been talking about this friend?

Aerith shot him a fond look, laying a hand on Cloud’s arm as she settled down, legs folded neatly under her dress. “We’ve lived in the Lifestream all this while because it was easy – we could go anywhere we wanted, since the Lifestream is everywhere. But when Gaia collapsed, the Lifestream gradually began to die along with it. And when you came back… we had to get you out. You were the highest concentration of Mako left in the world, and the Heartless creatures that roamed the world saw you as a threat.” She smiled, sadly.

“Because Mako is the purest form of Lifestream,” Cloud supplied quietly.

Zack grinned, suddenly. “So now you’re _literally_ my living legacy.”

Aerith chortled, giving him a light shove, but she might as well have been trying to move a mountain with the way Zack didn’t even sway from the force. “Like what Zack said, we’re attached to you now. We’ve been with you this whole time. And it’s probably a good thing too.” Her face became serious. “You’ve noticed that you’re healing much slower when away from Gaia, haven’t you?”

Cloud hesitated, and then gave a single nod.

“That’s because there’s no Lifestream on these other worlds you’ve been to. On Gaia, your body draws in the Lifestream all around you, and uses that to heal. Now, all you’ve got is what’s inside of you. At this rate, something like this is going to take you a few days –”

“But I don’t have a few days!”

Aerith patted his arm, eyes kind, and Cloud halted in the middle of his alarmed outburst. “That’s why we’re here.”

“That’s why _she’s_ here, rather,” interrupted Zack, putting an arm around her shoulders, and this time she let him. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“Now, Rinoa was it?” Rinoa nodded mutely as Aerith ran a hand down Cloud’s torso in the same way she had done earlier. “Your spell didn’t work because of two reasons. Firstly, the spell doesn’t realise he’s injured, because his body composition is different from anything native to your world – it doesn’t know how to differentiate between the Mako in his blood and the Mako in his skin. Secondly, Cloud’s body recognises it as a foreign type of magic, and _that_ triggers his automatic defence system to repel it.” The brunette lightly pinched the cut edges of Cloud’s skin together, and though she didn’t visibly cast anything the familiar green sparks began zipping down the torn flesh, stitching the gash together as though with an invisible needle.

“One of Aerith’s powers is the ability to manipulate the Lifestream to do her bidding,” explained Zack as Cloud sat up gingerly, touching the new unblemished skin. He ruffled Cloud’s hair, expertly ignoring all of Cloud’s attempts to wriggle away, when all of a sudden he stilled. “Time’s up, I think.”

“You should take better care of yourself, Cloud,” added Aerith, accepting Zack’s offer of a hand to her feet and winking at Squall for some unknown reason.

“Wait! Zack –”

Violet eyes softened as they regarded Cloud. “Yeah, we’ll always be here.”

And with a last silvery giggle like the ringing of bells, they were gone.

Head turned towards where they had been, Squall couldn’t see Cloud’s expression, but he could see the steeling breath he drew in before he turned to his other side to face all of them. His face was contemplative, but he didn’t look upset. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, eyes flickering down to his right side and then up to blink twice in quick succession at Squall.

Squall looked down uncomprehendingly, to find that somehow his fingers were loosely tangled in Cloud’s pauldron without his knowledge. No wonder Aerith and Zack had been shooting him amused looks the whole time. He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to snatch his hand away as though burnt, instead casually removing his hand as though he’d always meant to do that. “Who are they?”

“Aerith was one of my friends, before…” Cloud trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at his left arm. The pink ribbon tied to his left arm, rather, and now that Squall thought about it, it was exactly the same colour as Aerith’s dress. “Before Sephiroth killed her.” His hand fell away. “And Zack… he’s the person who made me who I am today.”

Bright blue eyes slanted him a look under blond bangs, and Cloud’s next question saved Squall from the need to respond to that.

“So, do you have wings too?”

The sombre mood was shattered in an instant.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wonder what Squall ended up telling Cloud._

Catching an updraft, Rinoa stretched out her wings to their fullest extent, curving them just so to take full advantage of the few minutes of reprieve. Being constructs of pure magic, her wings didn’t precisely require back muscles to control, but it was better that she didn’t tire herself out before she even reached her destination.

As though sensing the downward turn of her thoughts, Angelo licked her face soothingly.

Unfortunately, she had needed to leave for Esthar before the spluttering brunet had managed to compose a coherent reply. Rinoa petted the dog currently curled up in her arms, her powerful wings cutting through the air. They would be there soon.

Given how many times she’d made the trip before, she didn’t need to be able to see the city walls to know that they were coming up on them _fast_ , but still Rinoa drew to a halt in mid-air at the sight of the horde of monsters gathered outside Esthar’s walls. Smaller still were the humanoid figures, mere specks of metal that dotted the field, glinting like tiny jewels wherever the sun caught their armour.

She alighted with cat-dainty footsteps atop one of the city walls, surveying the battlefield for a moment. The Estharian soldiers were losing, and losing _badly_. Without a specific target, many of the monsters had resorted to throwing themselves at the force field surrounding Esthar, as though attempting to break through by sheer physical power – and the worst thing was, they looked as if they were succeeding.

 _“Rinoa, I’m sorry to ask this of you. Can you handle it?”_ Ellone’s telepathic voice was frazzled with nerves. It must have been hard on her adopted sister, to see war once again dogging her footsteps, and not be able to do anything about it.

Rinoa smiled sadly, though she knew the other woman couldn’t see it. “Of course, Ellone. That’s what I’m here for.” One hand slipped into a special pouch sewn into her utility belt, and withdrew a bone.

Angelo perked up, snuffing happily, and she let him wriggle out of her arms onto the city wall. Two quick steps forwards, until she was no longer supported by the force field surrounding the whole of Esthar. A single powerful beat of her wings carried her over the heads of the majority of the Estharian army, and then she drew back her arm, and _flung_ the bone upwards.

Her pet dog leapt for the bone, and even in the bright late-morning light Rinoa could have sworn she just saw his shadow, larger than life, pass over the moon. Motes of light fluttered down from the sky, gold and scarlet and aquamarine, landing like scattered feathers across the entire battlefield. Where they landed on a fallen soldier, they glowed like miniature stars.

Monsters reared back in surprise as their targets seemed to slip away from lethal attacks, as substantial as the wind. Taking the chance, the Estharian soldiers began to evacuate en masse back into the city, a few of the more knowledgeable ones raising a hand in gratitude to the guardian angel hovering above them.

Angelo landed on the ground far below, bouncing off the head of a Torama as though it was a trampoline instead of an adult leopard-like monster. The impact knocked the Torama forwards, creating a crater where its skull hit the earth with an audible crack. Angelo didn’t even seem to notice, trotting forwards with a series of yipping barks. Then he paused, turning his head up towards his owner.

It took barely a second to realise what had caught his attention. “Go,” she told him.

Permission granted, Angelo wasted no time in dashing forwards. A final bound propelled him forwards onto the chest of an Elnoyle, where he clung on valiantly. Screeching in pain and shock, it swiped at him with a claw, involuntarily loosening its grip. The soldier formerly trapped within the cage of its claws fell to the ground, where two of his comrades dragged him away, calling out their gratitude as they ran.

Her pet dog could take care of himself. Rinoa surveyed the battlefield from her vantage point again, noting that the majority of the Estharian troops seemed to have safely retreated behind the city walls.

A prickle of malicious intent, just at the edges of her senses, but it was enough warning. A single beat of her wings took her out of the range of the Malboro’s Bad Breath, where she could look down, and see the malevolent green cloud of negative status effects hanging between them like a curtain. Rinoa lifted her left hand, Silenced Tear blasting away the smokescreen with its sheer velocity, and then swooped from the sky like an avenging angel, catching the blaster edge on its return even as Vanishing Star slit the Malboro from belly to crown.

She glanced around the battlefield again, ignoring with practised ease the explosions in the distance where Angelo was busy demolishing the Elnoyle. The closest monsters turned to her, the Malboro’s death having attracted their attentions, but the majority were still focussed on hammering down Esthar’s city walls.

That would have to change.

~*~*~*~*~

Irvine propped his chin in one hand, sharp brown eyes peering through the windshield as the _Ragnarok_ made yet another pass over the ruins of twisted metal where Trabia Garden had once stood. “This doesn’t look good.”

Selphie popped the gum in her mouth obnoxiously, and then shoved the spaceship controls at Zell. “Watch and learn,” she told them in a sing-song voice, skipping over to the other side of the windshield. The pendant around her neck glittered as it caught the light, and Selphie did a little jig in place as she shouted, “Doomtrain, I choose you!”

Zell angled the spaceship downwards, tilting the windshield for all of them to get a better view of the dark mass crawling over the snowy plains, the monsters clumped so close together that from the air they appeared to be one living, roiling entity.

Will-o’-the-wisps lit up the field like fireflies, two by two, perfectly parallel to each other. A few of the monsters jumped, claws swiping at them, only to pass harmlessly through. Spectral tracks clattered down in line with the little ghost lights, arranging themselves as though the gathered monsters were as substantial as smoke, and with a final mournful howl that chilled Irvine to the bone, Doomtrain burst into being. The runaway train sped through the assembled masses, knocking monsters out of its path. In an instant, there was a large clearing filled with nothing but fallen or stunned monsters.

“All right!” cheered Selphie, nudging Zell out of the pilot’s seat. “All buffs on. Go, team!”

Irvine was already crouched by the open bay doors, Exeter angled towards the ground and an out-of-character grin splitting his face. Zell met him there, sporting an identical grin. Without exchanging another word, the marksman _fired_.

A fiery hailstorm set the skies ablaze, brimstone raining judgement down upon the monsters. Wherever the Flame Shot made contact, tongues of fire lashed outwards like ripe seeds from a pod, immolating all nearby monsters.

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” Zell bent his knees and leapt from the bay doors with a loud scream of, “GERONIMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Irvine didn’t even bother rolling his eyes, so used was he to the exuberant fistfighter’s antics. Zell hit the ground in the middle of a crater, his aura exploding from him like a cloak of fire. He clenched his right fist, planted his feet further apart, and then with a whoop of joy split the very earth in two. Within minutes, the snowy slopes of Trabia was swallowed in a towering conflagration, from a combination of Flame Shot and Burning Rave.

Selphie delicately set the _Ragnarok_ down outside the entrance to the hidden Shmi village, ignoring the crunches of flambéed bones under the landing gear. “Boys and their flamethrowers,” she muttered, shaking her head, clapping Strange Vision together.

Irvine pretended not to hear the comment as he stepped off the spaceship next to her, his shotgun already reloaded. Everyone had their own way of casting spells, to be sure, but only _Selphie_ would decide that kicking one leg up behind her with her weapon stretched out as though she was posing for a candid shot was the best way to channel her magic.

Still, if it worked, it worked.

The girl danced past him as though on a sugar high, her nunchakus flying towards a Mesmerize. As badly charred as it was, even Selphie’s mediocre strength was enough to finish it off. She skipped towards the remnants of the herd, pocketing the horn as she went.

Irvine shot down another one of the unicorn-like creatures as the Mesmerize reared back on its hind legs, magic gathering as a point of white light at the tip of its horn. If even Tiamat was able to use its stocked magic, he didn’t want to see what a monster previously known to have some healing ability could do.

Speaking of Tiamat…

Irvine put two fingers into his mouth and loosened a series of piercing whistles. One long, followed by two short blasts in quick succession.

_Enemies spotted. Two of them._

Selphie spun around to look at him, accidentally firing her thrice charged spell towards a Snow Lion instead of the Blue Dragon she had been aiming at. Even from this distance, Irvine could see her sheepish grin as she turned back to correct her mistake – this time with an enraged Snow Lion on her tail. He frowned bemusedly in her direction. Weren’t Snow Lions _healed_ by Blizzaga? Why was this one so mad at her?

He had more important matters to worry about, though. They’d known, of course, that Tiamat surely wouldn’t be the only one of Ultimecia’s minions to make an appearance – but it was still a shock to see two of the boss monsters in Trabia. Turning in the direction where he had last seen Zell, he found the martial artist waving an arm frantically towards one of them, first pointing at himself and then at Gargantua.

Didn’t that humanoid giant counter all physical attacks?

But then, Zell probably would have even more trouble trying to hit a flying monster. In any case, there was no time for arguments. Zell had both Protect and Shell to halve any incoming damage, and the Vitality to tank a few hits. If his party member – no, his _friend_ said he could do it, Irvine was going to trust his judgement.

Saving the world together had the tendency of giving a man _perspective_.

Giving the battlefield another sweep – Selphie waved back at him from the other side in the middle of Defending against the Snow Lion’s physical attacks, indicating that she would take over field monitor duty – Irvine lifted his shotgun.

“You’re totally not my type, so be honoured that I’m paying you so much special attention.”

Krysta screeched, wheeling around in mid-air as the bullets pattered against the crystalline structures that made up its body. Despite how tough those crystals looked, Irvine knew for a fact that they were as brittle as glass. He yanked on the pump handle of his shotgun, expelling the latest shell, and gave the monster his most insouciant grin.

“BOO- _YAH_!”

Evidently all his worrying about Zell had been a waste of energy. Irvine stifled an uncustomary grin, tapping Exeter against his shoulder, and gave the hovering monster a little mocking bow.

“Ladies first.”

He twisted out of the way of a poorly-aimed magic spell, feeling it shatter the side of the mountain rising behind him. Krysta screeched again, and the first Canister Shot caught it straight in the centre of its torso, completely throwing it backwards. Irvine didn’t hesitate to press his advantage, keeping up a steady salvo of concussive grenades each time Krysta looked to be on the verge of righting itself.

His eyes flickered to the side as his opponent began to lose altitude, hairline cracks running along the crystals that made up its body. Selphie was further behind it and to the right, her Slots machine open in front of her. Irvine took his eyes off her just as she came up, a ball of fire in each hand, lobbing them at the pesky Snow Lion. She must have given up, then. Given that she was able to triple-cast any spell, settling for a double-Firaga from her Limit Break didn’t make any sense.

A final Canister Shot brought Krysta down for good, and Irvine didn’t look up to confirm his kill; the moment the monster began falling he started running, putting as much distance between the monster and himself as possible. The Ultima slammed into the side of the mountain like a vicious lightning strike, and Irvine winced at the unmistakeable sound of packed snow loosening somewhere above his head.

Drawing Krysta to one side of the battlefield to prevent its final attack from hitting anyone else had been a planned move. But luring it next to a snow-laden mountain… might have been a slight miscalculation.

Seismic waves rolled under his feet, and Irvine went down on one knee, _hard_. The Ultima had been aimed at the mountain; it wasn’t strong enough to cause an earthquake, surely?

It hit him a blinding moment later. The shockwaves didn’t come from Krysta’s final attack, they were from _Gargantua’s_. Irvine cursed under his breath and struggled to his feet, stumbling forwards. He’d rather brave Quake than an avalanche.

An enormous earthen barrier rose from the soil behind him, almost sending him sprawling forwards again, and with a clap of thunder the giant snowball chasing him self-destructed against Selphie’s Wall.

The three of them regrouped at the centre of the clearing they’d carved out for themselves, scanning their surroundings. There weren’t any other monsters in the immediate vicinity; in fact – Irvine lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun reflecting off the snowy slopes – were they… fleeing?

He turned around to share the observation with the other two, only to find them both gaping open-mouthed at something behind him. Resigned, Irvine steeled himself and slowly turned around.

Omega WEAPON was descending from the skies, like a divine being deigning to grace the mortal realm with its presence. It easily dwarfed the mountain behind it, blotting out the sun as it came closer to the ground.

“Oh, _fuck_ my life.”

Irvine could completely commiserate with Zell’s feelings on the matter.

~*~*~*~*~

A moment ago, Cloud had been standing next to him at the main entrance to Balamb Garden, First Tsurugi leaning against one of the turnstiles and bright blue eyes scanning the crowd of monsters that had gathered to greet their arrival.

A particularly precocious Cockatrice had warbled a warning cry, crackles of lightning wreathing its beak in the familiar opening move of Electrocute.

The next moment Cloud was simply _gone_ , a sizzle of blue under his boots the only sign of some foreign magic Squall didn’t recognise. Something that boosted his jumping power, perhaps? It certainly wasn’t any variant of Float or wind-based magic that he could tell.

Cloud landed on the Cockatrice’s back with a dull thud that snapped one of its legs, and with one back-handed stroke had severing its head from the rest of its body before it could even attempt to shake him off.

Squall disembarked like a normal person with the rest of the SeeD, skidding a hard left the moment he hit the ground, towards where he’d seen Cloud last.

So intent was he on his goal, that he nearly missed the flash of warning screaming across his senses. A tentacle snapped across his ankle, sending him off-balance. Before Squall could hack the offending limb off with his gunblade, a tingle of foreign magic washed over him.

Even breathing was like trying to draw molasses into his lungs. Squall fought to raise Lionheart, to turn around to face the Ochu, but he might as well have been trying to wade through a swamp. He inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart, the accursed clock counting down to his doom in his peripheral vision. There was no time to cast Esuna on himself, not with the effects of Slow hindering his every motion.

Ice Bullet left Lionheart in a hailstorm, fanning out in an arc around the Ochu in an attempt to compensate for his reduced speed. Before he could decide on his next move, the feeling of being scrubbed clean washed over him, lifting the weight on his limbs. Freed of the negative status effects, Squall shook his head, once, to clear his thoughts. Quistis was already several steps in front of him, a jet of pure flame leaving her lungs. In the next moment, the block of ice the Ochu had been frozen in cracked along one side before shattering, the extreme temperature change causing massive damage it couldn’t handle.

Lumbering footsteps alerted them to the presence of a Hexadragon, the reptile no doubt drawn to the sudden warmth. A blazing fireball greeted them, and Squall darted in front of Quistis, Lionheart cleaving through the conflagration. Thank Ifrit that he was still junctioned to Firaga and hence immune to fire.

Golden motes of light fluttered around him, pumping much-needed energy into his limbs. Squall let a tiny, almost unnoticeable smirk flit across his face as he tapped the blunt edge of Lionheart against his shoulders. Aura always made him feel as though he could do anything. He shifted his centre of gravity backwards, his dominant leg taking the brunt of his weight for a split second, and then he was off.

A twist right, a horizontal slash – Lionheart made short work of the small fry stupid enough to get in his way – and then with a jump and a two-handed slash Squall brought his gunblade down on the Hexadragon armoured head. It tossing its head in frantic, chaotic movements, trying to throw him off, but he wasn’t finished with it yet. Raising Lionheart above his head, Squall reached for the deep well of power buried in his core, letting his force of will detonate upwards like a geyser that he fancied could extend to the outer atmosphere. The Hexadragon barely had time to fully react, caught mid-thrash, when Squall brought his gunblade slamming down onto its head.

Blasting Zone exploded in all directions like a shockwave of pure light, and where the expanding aureole touched the monsters were erased from existence.

Blinking away the spots in his vision, Squall lowered Lionheart cautiously, ready for a follow-up attack should there be a need for one. He needn’t have worried – Quistis was picking herself off the ground, giving him a quick shake of her head to indicate that there was nothing alive in their immediate vicinity.

The trumpeting of an angry behemoth, like a boom of thunder, made them turn their heads in that direction – just in time to see Catoblepas charge at Cloud, its twin horns lowered. Quiet muttering came from the woman on his left, and a bare instant before the Deadly Horn hit Squall felt the familiar cotton-and-fluff Mighty Guard take effect. Cloud clambered to his feet, the Mighty Guard having taken effect just in time to save him from being gored, feet coming off the ground as though he was standing on invisible platforms of air instead of solid ground.

Squall hummed in appreciation. Quistis’ fully-powered Mighty Guard, rare as it was, was always greatly appreciated for the dizzying array of beneficial status effects packed into that one Limit Break spell.

He brushed a hand over Lionheart’s blade just to confirm that it was still junctioned to Blizzaga, a relic of the previous day’s fight against the T-Rexaur. Good, anything but Thundaga against _the_ Thunder Behemoth.

Cloud widened his stance, and then took the next charge head-on, First Tsurugi’s broad blade straining against the Catoblepas’ crushing power, neither giving way. Squall shook his head, a tiny smile playing at his lips at the casual display of superhuman strength, and then dove into the fray.

The Catoblepas staggered under the dual onslaught, shaking its head as though bemused, and a light buzzing against his senses made him look up to see its eyes glazed over, unseeing, courtesy of a Blind from Quistis. Emptying the barrel of his gun upwards into the junction between its neck and head, under where the chin would be on a human, Squall leapt out of the way as Cloud took his place, the blond’s broadsword more suited to feats of brute force such as the forcible separation of its head from its neck.

At a quick hand-signal – _dodge_ – the trio scattered, the final barrage of Meteors hitting nothing but empty plains. The grasslands trembled under the continuous impact, but with Float active – Mighty Guard was truly a gift – the resultant seismic shocks had no effect on them.

But instead of dying away, the earthquake seemed to intensify, the ground cracking open in places. Squall cast an eye around, wondering what was wrong.

Then he saw them.

The early afternoon sun glinted off armoured plates painted a deep royal purple, each of the monster’s rumbling footsteps sending minute tremors coursing through the earth. Creeping across the plains behind it, one on each side, were the gargoyles that had once decorated Galbadia, leathery tails lashing in agitation from side to side.

The report from Fisherman Horizon wasn’t wrong. Ultima WEAPON had awoken from its deep slumber beneath the ocean and had made its way to land.

Then Cloud frowned. “Hey, what’s it doing with my old sword?”

~*~*~*~*~

A high-pitched whine reached her ears, but Rinoa couldn’t tear her eyes off the sight.

A moment ago, some kind of tear had opened in the very fabric of space, and even without the slimy sense of _wrongness_ oozing from the gap she could instinctively identify it as alien. Before she could even begin to figure out how to close the dimensional rip, countless black shapes began pouring from the roiling void beyond, spilling like oil onto the ground.

They were fast, very fast, and in a blink had spread like the plague from the walls of Esthar to as far as the eye could see – which, given that she was in the air and there was nothing but flat grassland all around, was very far indeed.

She wondered if this was what Cloud’s friend had meant by the term, _Heartless_. Certainly the term seemed to fit, in a way she couldn’t put her finger on, and it wasn’t because they lacked hearts. They _flowed_ in hypnotising, choreatic motions, as though they were a hive mind instead of separate entities. The plains were already covered by the writhing mass, and where the oily stain spread to the monsters there fell like flies.

Was this why the monsters had been so restless? Had they sensed, known somehow that these _Heartless_ creatures were coming, like animals able to detect the faint tremors heralding an impending earthquake?

Angelo whined again, louder this time, and Rinoa turned just in time to see him get dragged under the tidal wave.

“No!”

The sound was dragged out from her throat and she lunged forwards, even as she knew she was too far, even as she knew she wasn’t fast enough –

Esthar’s doors cracked open, and a man swung out as though he were a monkey on a vine. The rapid rat-a-tat of an automatic machine gun filled the air, and where the bullets hit the Heartless receded temporarily as though he was hitting a liquid instead of multiple solid creatures.

Angelo struggled out of the last vestiges clinging to his fur and leapt for safety, the man following him back into the city, and the doors had barely slammed shut once more before the Heartless surged upon them like a black tsunami.

White wings arched high over her back, stretching to their fullest extent. Rinoa closed her eyes, calling up the torrent of power thrumming within her, letting it spill in waves through her fingers like a waterfall instead of trying to contain it as usual.

There would be time to thank Laguna later.

~*~*~*~*~

Irvine _shuddered_ violently as the scythe passed through him, even though he _knew_ – of course the first thing they did was check their status defence junctions, they were well-aware of Omega WEAPON’s tricks – that it would have no effect on him.

Selphie didn’t seem to have the same compunction as he did, judging by the way she was hopping on one foot, her weapon sparkling a deep violet. The three Meltdown spells hit Omega before it had the chance to do anything else, its diamond-hard scales rippling a bruised purple as its spirit was forcibly sapped away. She did a little jig in excitement, accepting a fist-bump from Zell.

“Got any more Hyper Shots left in you, Casanova?”

A smirk graced Irvine’s face. “For you, my lady, always.”

Zell snorted loudly, waving a fist at the gunslinger. “Give it _hell_ , Irvine!” A shower of white sparks cascaded over Irvine, his senses sharpening under the effect of Haste as though in a battle trance. Sounds faded away, becoming distant echoes.

Irvine shouldered his gun, his last cartridge of Pulse Ammo in hand, methodically sliding it into place with a little ‘click’. He ignored the way space shifted and warped, the image of a star field briefly overlaying the snowy slopes of Trabia, the shooting stars falling from the skies. The other two could handle it.

He only had one job.

Selphie’s Triple-Curaga spells played tug-of-war on his health with the damage from Omega WEAPON’s attacks, the ongoing tussle barely registered and then just as soon discarded as unimportant. He wouldn’t die from this, his friends would make sure of that.

Pull the trigger.

He did notice when Meteor gave way to Megiddo Flame, because it was hard _not_ to notice a colossal volcanic eruption swallowing them whole. Irvine breathed steadily and calmly, his aim never faltering despite the molten lava filling his lungs.

Pull the pump handle all the way back.

Immense weight descended upon him, threatening to crush him under the weight of the world. Irvine smirked bitterly. Gravija had _nothing_ on the burden of being tasked to save the entire world. Again.

 _Perspective_.

Exeter spat out the eighth empty shell at his feet, and Irvine took a deep cleansing breath. The lightness coursing through his veins lifted, leaving him trembling like a leaf from the adrenaline high.

But he was alive.

Everyone was alive.

Selphie fell to one knee, adopting her customary position that allowed her to Defend against any physical attack while poking at her Slots machine. The first few hits of Terra Break crashed harmlessly against her like waves breaking upon a cliff as her hands flew over the controls, but by the uncustomary scowl on her face nothing useful was turning up.

Eight hits.

Dusting her sundress off, Selphie got to her feet, twirling a hand in the air. _Can’t find it, go for the back-up plan._ With her other hand she jabbed at a button, and feathers sprayed out of the machine, cloaking them in the revitalising spring breeze of a Full-Cure. Looked like The End was a no-show then.

Twelve hits.

He _hated_ channelling Guardian Forces – in his opinion, no gain in power was worth the loss of his precious memories. Even though Rinoa had promised that she’d carved out a space in their favourite accessories especially for the Guardian Forces, that the summons would no longer need to burrow into the cerebrum, Irvine still preferred to rely on them as little as possible. The blank looks on his childhood friends’ faces during their first reunion in Galbadia Garden, as though none of them had any idea who he was, was seared permanently into his memory.

But, when faced with a choice between summoning and potential death, even Irvine could make an exception.

Sixteen hits.

Omega WEAPON raised a gauntleted fist like a general gesturing at his army to attack, and a pillar of light crashed down from the skies like a judge’s hammer descending upon the gavel. Zell grunted in pain as the aura of channelling surrounding him faded away in an instant, his Bahamut killed in a single hit. He shook dirty blond bangs away from his face impatiently, his gloved fists clashing together.

Irvine snorted softly at the declaration of intent. It wasn’t like either him or Selphie could do anything while halfway through summoning their respective Guardian Forces. Irvine had gone for Diablos, the only one he had a contract with, but Selphie had a much greater variety of choices.

Zell was eerily quiet as he reared back and delivered his first headbutt, followed rapidly by a dropping heel kick, his body swaying almost hypnotically back-and-forth, up-and-down.

A thousand bats burst from Irvine’s cupped hands, swarming at Omega WEAPON. It reared back as they passed, wings whipping against its scales, and then lifted its head to watch Diablos swoop down from the skies like a fallen angel as though Zell was nothing but an annoying mosquito.

Of course it would ignore Zell. Booya and Heel Drop, on their own, were neither very destructive nor very flashy. But Armageddon Fist wasn’t feared for its explosive damage. Armageddon Fist was feared for its _tenacity_ , the way once Zell started he wouldn’t _stop_ until the monster was dead. The ground cracked under the combined weight of Omega WEAPON and Dark Messenger’s gravity-enhancing effects, but the melee fighter didn’t even seem to notice, having sunk so deep in his battle trance.

Last time, between Squall and Zell, they’d managed to kill the Omega WEAPON residing in Ultimecia’s Castle with no casualties.

Now… now Zell might be able to do it all on his own.

Selphie lowered her arms slowly, shaking a little from the strain. There was no need to ask which Guardian Force she had chosen, not with the way the fabric of reality bent and warped in front of them, a violent epilepsy of colours twisting around Omega WEAPON and stripping away that section of space to its runic skeletal frame. Eternal Breath was a complete misnomer for Eden’s attack, given that it bore no resemblance to a breath of any kind.

Zell’s next headbutt coincided with the moment the universe was remade anew, Omega WEAPON flinching backwards from the dual onslaught, perhaps finally realising the tenuous situation it was in. It raised a claw, made dull and stiff from the amount of health it had lost, and Selphie gritted her teeth as she raised her trembling hands one more time, preparing to counter any damage to Zell with another Triple-Curaga.

There was no need.

Before the claw ever reached Zell, yellow beams of light exploded out of Omega WEAPON, shattering into streams flowing upwards into the atmosphere. Dirty blond spikes fluffed in the resultant slipstream, and Zell paused for the first time since starting his Limit Break sequence. Irvine could see the way his shoulders dropped, the way he took a step back to bear witness to the colossal destruction he had wrecked.

When he finally turned around to face them, the vanishing motes of golden light wreathed his hair in a halo, he looked every bit the saviour of the world he actually was.

Until he opened his big fat mouth.

“Hah, _eat that_!”

~*~*~*~*~

The two Iguion fell first, their leathery hides shredding like paper under the combined assault of Lionheart and First Tsurugi. With their deaths, the shimmering Reflect barrier around Ultima WEAPON cracked like a pane of glass, the shards dissolving before they ever hit the ground.

Quistis, who had been waiting in the wings with Meltdown cupped in her hands, let it loose the moment she had a clear shot. They waited expectantly for a beat, but it splashed harmless against Ultima WEAPON’s armoured scales.

Squall sighed, lowering Lionheart and closing his eyes, trusting Cloud to handle whatever Ultima WEAPON chose to dish out in revenge for the moment. Griever growled in the back of his mind, a soothing rumble that kept his hands steady as he drew upon his own reserves of magic.

The second Meltdown wrapped itself around Ultima WEAPON’s neck like a heat-seeking missile, burrowing into the first hint of vulnerability it found. Scales _rippled_ outwards from the point of contact, royal purple darkening to violet-black as the spell took effect.

Gravija crushed down upon them, stealing their breath away, but Squall glanced sideways at his friends and held his head up high. They would get through this.

Cloud dashed past them, the Mako in his veins sending him rocketing upwards with a jump as though he had wings. First Tsurugi bit into armour, sparks flying and making the most horrible shrieking noise – worse than nails on a chalkboard – as he let gravity carry him all the way to the ground. The blond didn’t turn around, but Squall knew what he meant anyway.

_Your turn, Leonhart._

Little white orbs surrounded Ultima WEAPON, looking as harmless as fairy lights, until they swivelled upon an invisible axis to aim at its chest. A beam of blinding white light erupted from each innocuous orb, the homing lasers carving through all in their path to reach their target. When Quistis finally finished her Limit Break technique, large swathes of Ultima WEAPON’s chest were now charred black and smoking slightly.

The earth shook as the monster made its displeasure known, but with the Float effect from Mighty Guard still active the Quake didn’t have a hope of scratching them. Even Cloud took the churning earth in stride, barely batting an eyelash even as he ducked an uprooted tree flung in their direction as though it were a toy thrown by an oversized toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

That image was enough to bring a tiny smile to Squall’s face as he centred himself. He had good friends whom he called family, and now perhaps someone whom he could call his equal both on and off the battlefield. All his previous worries and doubts seemed so trivial in the face of all this.

Renzokuken came almost unbidden, his heart and soul in perfect resonance with his thoughts for once, and he spun into the first strike of his Limit Break with deadly grace. Ultima WEAPON flinched backwards upon the seventh hit, and without missing a beat – the eighth hit wouldn’t deal the full damage anyway – Squall transitioned into the opening sequence for his finishing move. Lion Heart – once as unattainable as the stars in the sky when he first learnt it a year ago – now felt almost _right_ in his hands.

Griever purred in his mind, and Squall could have sworn the light coalescing at the tip of his gunblade blazed for a split-second, like a sun about to go supernova. Ultima WEAPON trembled minutely under his final slash, Lionheart slicing deeply into its body like it was coated in brittle glass instead of armour.

_Bring it on, Strife._

The blond didn’t disappoint. First Tsurugi split into its component six blades, five of them spinning an ominous vortex around Ultima WEAPON. Cloud hefted Vigilante in one hand, giving it a few practice swings above his head. Blond spikes tilted sideways, bright blue eyes catching in their peripheral vision the expectant look on Squall’s face, before the swordsman was off.

He counted off the number of hits by the number of times Ultima WEAPON gave a full-body shudder at each impact, because his eyes had no hope of keeping up with the speeding blur – faster than Rinoa’s Wishing Star – weaving through the air, the very air igniting in his passage to form a slipstream of tiny explosions. Each of the other five blades vanished from view, reappearing at various points on Ultima WEAPON’s gigantic bulk.

The blur of colour resolved into Cloud again, both hands wrapped around Vigilante’s handle. For a split-second he hung weightless above Ultima WEAPON’s head, before gravity reasserted itself and he dropped like a stone, his blade clanging against purple scales with a ringing thunk that Squall could hear from all the way on the ground.

And then he kept going. Like a shooting star, Cloud came down upon Ultima WEAPON, splitting it with a two-handed cleave. The combination of his strength and gravity dragged him down, until he landed in a crouch in front of them, the enormous monster completely bisected.

Cloud rose slowly to his feet, idly picking up the pieces of his fusion sword, and he didn’t need to turn around for Squall to read the satisfaction in the line of his back.

With a last echoing warble, Ultima WEAPON crashed to its knees like a king brought down low.

~*~*~*~*~

Berserker Meteor Barrage, what a horrible name for her ultimate Limit Break.

Rinoa spread her arms out wide, and meteors began raining down from the overcast skies.

Meteor Shower would have been such a better name.

She rose higher into the air, gazing dispassionately across the battlefield. Everything was crystal clear, all her worries set aside for the moment. Billions and billions of Heartless swarmed over the plains now, even though barely five minutes had passed since the first dimensional rip was spotted. She didn’t know how to fix it, but she was sure Dr Odine was busy in Esthar, looking for a way to close them down.

A casual wave of her hand, like the conductor of an invisible orchestra, and Apocalypse whirled across the plains, giving the walls of Esthar a brief reprieve.

But they kept coming.

~*~*~*~*~

He didn’t need to see the way Cloud’s face went bloodless next to him to _know_ , on an instinctual level, that the black formless figures pouring over the grass plains like an oil spill gone out of control were a serious threat.

“Squall, Squall we need to go!”

Hands grabbed at his arm, yanking him away. He fought against the restraints reflexively, almost succeeding in throwing Quistis off had the woman not resorted to using her whip in place of her hand. Save the Queen wouldn’t come off for anyone if its Mistress didn’t wish it.

Couldn’t she tell that they _needed_ to do something before it was too late?

“Squall! Odin curse it, _help me_ , Cloud!”

A muscled arm wrapped around his torso, its owner hauling him up bodily, dragging him relentlessly like a rag doll away from the ever-rising black tide.

“There are villages that way!” he gasped, the words forcing their way out of his throat. “We have to help them!”

Cloud didn’t pause in his long strides, though the arm around his chest loosened somewhat, letting the brunet gulp in a deep breath. He almost didn’t care how stale the air was, choked in the stench of death and decay. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“How would _you_ know?” Squall shot back, and immediately regretted his outburst when Cloud stopped, blue eyes _flaring_ brighter in response. The other swordsman didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. If these were the exact same creatures that had destroyed Cloud’s world, then how must he feel to encounter them when he was stranded in a foreign world, knowing what was about to happen and yet helpless to stop any of it? Brute force didn’t work on these _heartless_ creatures, nor any form of magic they’d tried. When one fell, three more took its place.

_I’m sorry._

As a peace offering, the brunet stopped struggling. Cloud slanted him a vaguely suspicious look, but obligingly released him to allow him to walk under his own power. Squall wasn’t under any illusions, however – if he tried to run, Cloud was ready to tackle him at a moment’s notice. And even if by some stroke of miracle he’d managed to convince them to let him go, they’d insist upon coming with him. He couldn’t do that to his chosen family. He couldn’t let anyone else die for his sake.

The roar of engines brought him out of his reverie, and Squall looked up to see the _Ragnarok_ circling overhead, Selphie somehow managing to make the spacecraft hover like a helicopter. Irvine stood by the open bay doors, dangling Selphie’s nunchakus down like a makeshift rope.

Quistis shook her head when Cloud looked at her, her whip flying out in a deadly arc to snag the _Ragnarok_ ’s landing gear. Cloud gave her a nod as she began hoisting herself up, using her whip like a pulley system, and then transferred his gaze to Squall.

The brunet scowled back, but Cloud wouldn’t be moved, clearly intent on making sure Squall wouldn’t run off to perform some recklessly suicidal hero manoeuvre. With an exasperated sigh, Squall grabbed onto Strange Vision, letting Irvine pull him up.

Dangling in mid-air, Squall watched as Cloud took a few steps backwards, eyes fixed on the spaceship. Then, with a running start and a flying jump, he shot upwards like a missile, easily clearing Squall’s head in an instant. He caught the edges of the _Ragnarok_ with both hands, and then flipped himself into the craft beside an open-mouthed Irvine.

Squall gaped up at the spaceship, which, although it was flying low due to necessity certainly wasn’t _that_ low, and then back down at the impromptu crater Cloud made upon taking off. It wasn’t his imagination either, this time he definitely saw a faint blue circle etched into the soles of Cloud’s boots like a rocket booster. Some kind of high jump spell?

He accepted Cloud’s offer of a hand into the spacecraft, the doors shutting with a hiss behind him, and let his gaze sweep past the occupants.

“Let’s go pick up Rinoa.”

He was unprepared for the shuttered looks from the Trabia party, the way Selphie’s back slumped and Zell’s hair drooped into his face like he was too subdued to push it away. “What?”

“You didn’t hear?” Irvine asked, rhetorically, when neither of the other two spoke. “This calamity… it _started_ from Tear’s Point. All communications with Esthar were suddenly cut off a few hours ago, and nobody’s been able to contact them ever since.” And if the most technologically advanced city in the world went offline while the satellites themselves were still functional…

The news hit Squall like a punch to the gut, and he staggered backwards, putting out a hand to catch himself on the wall. The metal was cold, a reflection of the temperature outside, but he scarcely felt it over the icy grip of terror around his heart.

“I would have known,” he choked out, a hand flying up to rub against his sternum, where the faintest hint of a twinned heartbeat pulsed. “She’s still alive, I can feel it.”

Selphie’s knuckles went white over the steering wheel, but her voice was steady. “We make for Esthar, then.”

~*~*~*~*~

“There’s no one here.”

The plains was writhing with molten black lava, no sign of civilisation to be seen in any direction. Squall would have questioned whether they were even on the right continent, if it wasn’t for the oddly tall monument in the distance, sticking out like a sore thumb. The Sorceress Memorial, with the rocket base embedded within, shimmered a faint oily black under the setting sun.

“Maybe she flew away,” Selphie said with forced cheer. She finally turned around in the pilot’s seat for the first time to reveal blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, shoving a handkerchief at Irvine.

His forehead plastered to the windshield, Squall didn’t reply for a long moment. Gunmetal eyes scanned the horizon again and again, as if hoping for a different result each time, even as he recognised the laughable futility in the gesture.

Rinoa. Laguna. Ellone. _Where are you?_

“Have you been able to hail anyone else?” he vaguely heard Quistis ask in the background, to a chorus of negative answers.

A warm body settled next to him, just close enough for their arms to accidentally brush against each other if he shifted in the right direction.

“Maybe _we_ should fly away.”

Squall shoved himself upright with a violent shake of his head, palms slapping against the reinforced glass. He began turning away from the windshield, about to say something, when movement caught his peripheral vision.

The black liquid was spurting upwards like a thousand fountains, resolving into tens of thousands of buzzing wasp-like figures headed straight for them.

Beside him, Cloud spat a startled curse and spun around completely, a hand pressed against the glass. The bracelet around his wrist clinked gently, the embedded jewels glowing.

“These things can fly?” their pilot screeched, for the first time that afternoon sounding remotely close to her usual exuberant self. Without being prompted, she yanked hard on the controls, bringing the _Ragnarok_ hurtling up in a steep climb and sending everyone but her toppling to the floor.

“Just get us out of here!”

“Don’t tell me,” Irvine snarked back at Zell as they rocketed through the stratosphere, Selphie pushing the spacecraft as fast as it would go, “these things don’t need to breathe and can follow us into space.”

Dead silence greeted his pronouncement.

Then Selphie sighed, tapping a few more buttons. The spacecraft levelled out, a field of stars their only accompaniment for the moment. She pushed herself out of the pilot’s chair. “Also, we’re already running low on fuel.”

“I don’t suppose we’ll be lucky enough to find another spaceship floating around?” wondered Quistis out loud.

They exchanged grim looks in defeat. Even if the monsters couldn’t follow them into space, they were doomed with nowhere to go, no food, no water, and a limited supply of oxygen.

Cloud hauled himself up, unzipping his utility pouch and setting a handful of ration bars on the nearest flat surface. His hand dipped back into his pouch, and he paused. Then he withdrew his fist and opened it, the teleport crystal from Cosmos glittering on his palm. “What about this?”

Squall could have kissed him for that as he hastily dug through his utility pouch for his own teleport crystal. “Cosmos never said it could only carry one person, did she?”

Cloud shrugged one shoulder. “I managed to bring Zack and Aerith with me, so…” he trailed off.

“Right.” Squall breathed in. “We’ve got two, so if we have to we could take turns.” His heart was thrumming in his chest as they formed a loose ring in the centre of the cockpit. They could get out of this alive. “An image of the place you want to go to, wasn’t it?”

A frown creased Cloud’s brow and his gaze flickered downwards for a moment. “I think…” he offered quietly, “I think being desperate helps.”

Squall didn’t comment. “So, the flower field, then?”

Standing across from him, Cloud inclined his head. Quistis tentatively curled a hand around his left arm, while Irvine did the same on his right. “On three?”

“One.”

Movement outside the windshield drew their attention for a brief moment. Cloud’s eyelids fluttered closed, firmly shutting out the sight of the black waves making their way towards the stranded spaceship.

“Two.”

A beat later Squall followed his example. If they were only going to get one shot at this, best not to have any more distractions.

“Three.”

They warped out of dimensional space the exact moment the _Ragnarok_ exploded.

~*~*~*~*~

A gentle spring breeze tickled his cheek, and Squall inhaled deeply, pollen tickling his nose. He could feel Selphie clutching onto his right arm for dear life, and Zell’s equally tense death grip on his left.

His eyes opened to meet Cloud’s glowing blue ones.

It worked.

They were safe now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Things I couldn’t work into the story:**  
>  – Fenrir, unfortunately. And a giant beach umbrella – though I tried with the cocktail umbrella.  
> – “Imagine the place you want to go to.” Cloud thought of Squall, so the teleport crystal obediently deposited him outside Squall’s office window. Which also happened to be four floors off the ground in the air.  
> – Cloud wears a Chocobracelet with the following Materia: Underwater, High Jump, Master Magic, and Chocobo Lure.  
> – Cloud wears his ACC/DoC clothes minus the black cloth that used to hide his Geostigma symptoms (since he no longer has Geostigma), Squall wears his Dissidia clothes, and everyone else wears their final choice of clothing at the end of FFVIII.  
> – Cloud’s Limit Break works as per FFVII (i.e. in times of high stress/anger), and none of the FFVIII-only status effects work on him so you’ll notice that he unleashes Limit Breaks at a much, much lower frequency than the FFVIII characters.  
> – All attacks/weaknesses/resistances are legit gameplay, though some liberties have been taken with respect to which continuity (Dissidia vs Dissidia Duodecim vs original game) and obviously FFVIII has been turned into an action MMO instead of its original turn-based battle system.  
> – The Chaos within Vincent is a small fragment of the true Chaos, and the events of Dirge of Cerberus was what triggered the events of Dissidia.  
> – This makes Cloud 24 and Squall 18 at the start of the story, in case anyone wants to keep track. But I’m of the firm belief that being comatose doesn’t count towards your age, so knock 5 years off for Cloud.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for 'Distant Worlds : Collision ' by Starrie Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457609) by [stormbrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbrite/pseuds/stormbrite)




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